


Breathing In Clouds

by arielgryffinpuff



Series: Clouds [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Bruce Is a Good Bro, F/M, Gen, Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Misunderstandings, Natasha Is a Good Bro, POV Alternating, Panic Attacks, Rape, Rape Aftermath, Self-Harm, Steve Is a Good Bro, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2018-12-23 22:37:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 28,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11999373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arielgryffinpuff/pseuds/arielgryffinpuff
Summary: After Tony is held against his will and attacked, he is left in pain and on edge. But he can't tell anyone the truth. In Avengers Tower, Steve, Bruce and Natasha try to help, while Tony struggles to cope, and vows to get revenge on his attackers.Not overly graphic.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First posted at FF.net, am updating that at the same time as this one.  
> Heed the warnings! (and tags)  
> Comments are so much appreciated :)

He groaned. Slowly, he came back to consciousness, trying to regain his senses around him. He winced in pain as he tried to lift himself up with his hands; he was face down on the hard ground.

"Uhh…whaa?" He mumbled, looking around the darkened alleyway, but his vision was blurred. He realised this was probably due to the banging that seemed to be going on in his head, which subsided his thoughts as he fell to the ground again limply.

Footsteps drawing in on him told him that he wasn't alone. What had happened again? He knew it was in the back of his mind, but…Jeez, the pain! His head, and his torso, and his whole body just _ached._

"You know _Tony Stark_ , this has been fun," a rough male voice whispered in his ear and he grabbed Tony by the hair and yanked him up. He squealed in pain but was finding it hard to open his eyes to look at his apparent assailant. The man then kicked Tony over with such force that he landed on his back. His mouth went into an O-shape, wincing inwardly at the painas the wind was knocked out of him. Through his blurry vision he saw a tall man and woman with long blonde hair.

"I trust you'll have the $20 million in our bank account within the week. If not, you'll be hearing from us again _Stark._ "

He recognised that voice.

Then it all came to him.

_Out for a drink. Rhodey left early, something about a family emergency?_

_Blonde woman was eyeing him at the bar. He had had enough for the night._

_Walked out of the bar._

_Blow to the head._

_Dark room. Blow to the stomach._

_Reached for his phone. Rough hands grabbed it and threw it at… at the wall?_

_Or his head?_

_More blows from rough hands and also from slender, smoother hands._

_He had fought back._

_Bad idea._

"You hear that, Stark?" he was whisked back to the present as blonde hair covered his face and the woman he recognised hissed in his ear. He looked at her and she smiled wickedly.

"You bi-"

Tony was cut off as she suddenly reached down and bit his shoulder.

"AH! Get - get off me!" Tony stuttered as he tried to push her off only to be kicked again by the man and Tony groaned again. He only then realised that the woman was sliding her hand underneath tony to put something like paper - or card? into his back jean pocket.

Then the rest of it came back to him.

_They were undressing him. He struggled._

_In this darkened room which was- wait, where was it? Where was he? Why hadn't someone stopped these people attacking him yet?_

_Because there was no one here. No one here to save Tony Stark._

_"You won't g-get away with thi-"_

_More blows and suddenly the pain was blinding. He tried throwing a punch put his arm was caught and his other arm were both pinned behind his back with rough hands. Too late to call his suit._

_The woman looked at him maliciously._

_But the pain came from behind._

_NO-!_

He came out of his thoughts and flashed back to the present. He tried to struggle against the girl and man who were now holding him down, but he was too weak. _Damn. Dammit! I'm panicking. Panicking too much._

But he couldn't stop shuddering, shaking, panting for breath. He was _scared_.

The woman laughed. "Those are my bank details Stark…tick tock," she said as she let go of him and stood up. The man and woman smirked at each other and then walked away.

Tony blinked and looked up, only to find the murky night-time clouds looking down at him, threatening to swallow him up. He looked around dejectedly but was hidden behind a dumpster down an alleyway, so no one could see him.

He needed to get away, get up, get, ge..what?

His vision clouded as his consciousness threatened to leave him.

"No – no- mm, have to get up-" Tony started but then a darkened figure loomed over him, but he was different; this one was scrawnier than the others.

Suddenly he was heaved into the figure's arms and held roughly as he was chucked into a car and the door slammed in his face.

The man got in the driver's seat and shut the door.

"You sure about this boss?" his low voice cut as he was speaking into his phone.

"Yes," drawled a woman's voice. Oh crap. That was _the woman._ Wait, was he being kidnapped? He had to get out of there -now. _Crap!_ He tried lifting his arm up for his suit to come to him but they were still tied behind his back.

He had a feeling the signal from his arm to his suit had been... _compromised_. Well, that would explain the warm liquid that was leaking down his arm. Blood. He groaned softly.

"We can't leave him in the street, as much as I'd _like_ to," the woman's voice drawled again lazily. She obviously had something against Tony Stark - but then again he seemed too piss off a lot of people who he didn't even know. And he had no clue who these people were - which made him worry even more.

"Drop him off at his precious _tower_. Oh, and patch him up with those gauzes, we can't exactly leave him to die now, _can_ we? And we don't want his _playmates_ thinking anything unusual is up..." Tony really didn't like the sound of this.

The woman's voice continued over the speaker phone from the front of the car. Tony could barely lift his head, but he had to try-

"Consider it done," the man said and chucked his phone across the other seat in the front as the car leapt to life. Tony wasn't belted in.

It was the only time he wish he actually had his seatbelt on, as his head whipped against the back of the car seat, and the darkness finally swallowed him up.


	2. Chapter 2

Tony blinked and woke up as he realised he was being slapped in the face. _Ow._

"Wake up _Stark_ ," the man ordered. Tony groaned as the driver lifted him by his collar and dragged him out of the car with surprising strength and lugged him across the ground in the darkness to the entrance of the Avengers tower, previously the Stark tower. The front door automatically opened and the driver threw Tony down on the ground where Tony lay in a heap as he screwed up his eyes and moaned in pain, curled up in his beaten body.

"Sir, do you require some assistance-" Tony's intercom Jarvis started and the man looked daggers at Tony.

"No – no Jarvis, not now…" he said. The man leaned down to him.

"Now, you're gonna have that money in Ms Perrimore's bank by the end of the week Stark, or you can expect another visit from us soon," he snarled beneath his dark hood. Tony was backing towards his elevator, but the man rushed up to him, and grabbed Tony's neck against the wall.

"Ah!" Tony squeaked as he was being strangled and weakly struggled against the man.

"Do you hear me Stark? You _tell_ no one, you don't _see_ no one and if you do, well I'm sure you can come up with an excuse why you look like…that," the man said darkly, still squeezing Tony's neck.

"Sir, shall I call-"

"N-no, Jar," Tony said through his sore throat, again trying to get Jarvis off his case. Surely the artificial _intelligence_ knew that this man would happily beat him up if he even attempted to get help?

The man _grinned_ at him. "You should be grateful, you know. I patched you up real nice, right?" he teased nastily, tapping the white bandage he had clumsily stuck onto Tony's head to stop it from bleeding out and Tony winced, trying to shrink away from him. The man shoved Tony into the wall and then backed away, out of the automatic doors.

"Don't be late, Stark," he warned and stalked off to his car, where Tony watched in anticipation as the man drove away into the night.

Tony tried to take deep breaths. He stumbled to the elevator as it automatically opened and he pressed the screen inside the lift to take him to his room. He moaned again and clutched at his badly bruised torso and as he moved to the back of the elevator his leg gave way in pain as he crumpled to the floor.

"Ah! God, my- my hip," Tony stuttered - his breathing was still coming in rapid gasps - as he tried to find out the source of his pain.

"Jarvis?" Tony called out.

"I am conducting a full body scan now, sir," Jarvis claimed, and Tony relaxed a little. Jarvis was like his personal doctor. That didn't mean he might not need a real one though, if he was really badly hurt - he didn't want to _die_. But the blinding pain and the pins and needles shooting through his body warped Tony's mind.

"It seems that you have a sprained hip, one broken rib and a concussion, sir," Jarvis stated. "I would personally recommend that you call a doctor – but if not, the only real treatment is to have plenty of bedrest for your injuries to heal, sir, along with some strong pain-killers." Huh, Tony thought. The pain really had warped his mind - it seemed as though he might have been on death's door. He was sure he had some pain pills in his medicinal cabinet somewhere, and he would _definitely_ be gettingthose. Then, the elevator doors opened and Tony crawled his way out of it, not daring to untwist his body.

"Dim the lights a bit, Jarvis," said Tony – the lights had been giving him a headache, and his head felt extremely heavy, but now the lights in the halls weren't as bright, but he could still see. His vision was getting worse as it started to be clouded with black spots.

"No – have to – get to my – rooms, my bed…" Tony panted as he awkwardly tried to stand, still hunched over, and hobbled his way down the hall, looking for his bedroom door, among the others which he had forgot even existed. He had his leather jacket on him, which concealed most his ripped, bloody t-shirt, and he was pretty sure that the back of his jeans were dirty; the back of them were covered in a dark rubble-like substance, and blood. Tony didn't really want to think about where that had comefrom. He held one hand to his head on his bandage, where some of the blood had leaked through and was still throbbing. His other bandaged and bloody arm was held up against his ribs. How nice of his captors not letting him _bleed to death_ , he thought sarcastically. Saying that, they only wanted him alive because of his money. Maybe a lot of people cared about him because of his money…

Suddenly he heard some shuffling from down the hall.

No! He thought his captors had gone!

But then another thought came to him. He had completely forgot - this was not a private business home anymore. It was the Avengers Tower in New York, where members of the Avengers, and other personnel like Pepper, could reside if they were cooperatingin the area, or needed to access some equipment and prepare for a mission.

"Jarvis," Tony whispered, looking back, seeing no-one, then looked forward again, his face now teemed with worry. "Who else is here?"

"Captain Rogers arrived earlier this evening while you were out, sir; Dr Banner already being here when he arrived two days ago," Jarvis clarified. _Dammit_. Rogers - _really?_ He would definitely have to avoid him – and he knew Pepper was away in London on a business trip, but maybe Bruce could help him… He wouldn't tell him the truth obviously, but maybe he would just tell him that he…erm – tripped?

 _Yea, right,_ Tony thought sarcastically, but bitterly as well as he remembered everything that had been done to him that night. _Oh yea, you could totally tell your friends that you tripped outside the pub, broke a rib, banged your head of the floor repeatedly, managed to twist and sprain your hip on the way down, and then magically flipped on your back only to have your backside to be cut and bleeding on – what, some stone? And then a nice little pixie bit you on your neck. And also gave you loads of hickeys._

Yea, that's totally believable.

Tony shuffled down the hall, trying to push the memories out of his head, but unsuccessfully so. Every walk on his painful left hip and his aching behind reminded him of what happened. Finally, he found his room. He breathed out a massive sigh of relief as he turned the door knob and walked inside, but before he closed his door behind him he heard someone call his name.

"Tony?"

_Steve._

Damn.

He put his door slowly to so that Steve couldn't see him, but left it ajar as he heard Steve approach his room.

" _What_ ," Tony said, his voice coarse and tired.

"I hope it's alright if I stay for a while. Me and Natasha finished up a mission not far from here and I thought I'd stay here while she visited Clint. She'll probably come up tomorrow," Steve explained, but came closer as he heard Tony's strangely laboured breathing and general _quietness._

"Are you alright, Tony?" he asked uncertainly as he put his hand on the door, uncertain of whether to interrupt on Tony's privacy to check up on him. He had an annoying habit of keeping things to himself, which as an army Captain annoyed him. Troops in the war had often kept themselves to themselves, but that Steve could understand, as everyone was in the same boat – missing family and friends from home, mourning for lost comrades, nursing wounds, and preparing to go into battle. But Tony wasn't a soldier and wasn't going through any of that, as far as Steve knew.

"Yea, 'm fine Steve," Tony replied, as he kept his hands firmly on the doorknob, ready to close it any second. He sighed. He really just wanted to get into bed now – his whole body just _ached - b_ ut he had to get Steve off his trail.

"Rhodey called me earlier, said he called you but you didn't answer," Steve said from the other side of the door, slightly confused by Tony's behaviour. Tony listened, as he did wonder where Rhodey had got to. Evidently anyone who called Tony after 21:31 would have had a wasted call, as that's the time he saw on his phone when it was then bashed on his head.

"He said he left you at about nine o'clock. His sister was involved in an accident and was taken to A & E, but she's not that bad; a sprained wrist and a concussion, I think. But he wanted to check that you hadn't got _drunk_ or done anything stupid," Steve explained, as he realised this was probably why Tony was acting so withdrawn.

"I'm not drunk," said Tony and laughed hollowly – if only. He had done pretty well lately, on that front.

"You only just got home? It's nearly two o'clock," Steve said, confused. He himself had only just got here. Tony hadn't realised that was the time…

"Where have you been?" Steve asked. God, he was _annoying_ , thought Tony.

"Oh, you know, just here and there," said Tony uncomfortably. "I'm going to sleep now, Cap. 'Night." Tony slammed his door shut and locked it, then dizzily made his way to his bed, while Steve was knocking at the door and tried to open it.

" _Tony_ ," Steve said sternly.

Ugh, why couldn't he just be left alone?

"Go away Steve," muttered Tony as he sank into his bed, with all his tatty clothes still on. He was so weary he didn't even care.

Steve realised he wasn't going to get any more out of Tony when it was clear he was tired – and that was saying something for Tony, as he didn't exactly sleep that often. He would question him in the morning, he decided, and stepped away from Tony's room. The super soldier headed down the hall to his own room. Bruce had already gone to bed, but Steve wanted to wait up for Tony. Partly because of Rhodey asking him to check on him, and partly because he had wanted to as well. Steve had had a busy week, and was pretty exhausted himself. He sighed as he went into his room and got ready for bed.

Before Tony went to sleep, he had found some pain-killers and taken them with a much-needed glass of water. Then he needed Jarvis to do one more thing.

"Jarvis?" he muttered, lifting his head up from his bed.

"Yes, sir?"

"Don't tell anyone about my… _injuries._ I'll probably tell Bruce tomorrow." Well, he probably wouldn't actually, Tony thought. He'd like to stay in bed all day and not tell anyone about anything. He felt safer in his locked, secure rooms.

"Also, I want this place locked down," he said as an afterthought. He didn't want his captors or anyone else coming back here. Yes, he would give them what they wanted, but not right now. "The others can leave if they want to, but no one gets in this place without my permission, and no one, absolutely _no one_ , comes into my rooms. Got it?" he asked hopefully, as he knew his personal AI was primarily concerned with Tony's wellbeing.

Jarvis was somewhat hesitant but said, "As you wish, sir."

"Good…" Tony mumbled feebly as he plopped his head down on his soft pillows and finally, _finally_ , sleep came to him. Tony thought that sleep would bring him peace, at least for a short while.

He was wrong.

_The woman was copying something from Tony's phone, and when she was finished she hit the phone down on top of his head as Tony cursed and struggled against the hands that were binding him. He saw the time. 21:31. Then, she threw the phone at the wall._

_"No one's coming to save you Tony Stark…" she said maliciously, a smile curling on her lips. The man sneered._

_"Huh. Why would anyone want to?" he said, gripping Tony's wrists harder. "Underneath the Iron Man, he's just a puny business egotist who only cares about himself. Why would anybody be his friend?" Tony snarled back at him._

_"You won't get away with this," he warned them. "I'll find you, and next time, let's see how you like fighting metal," He spat at the woman. A flash of anger crossed her face and Tony thought she might lash out and punch him, but instead she came close to him, clutched his shoulders as Tony leaned away, and sucked into his neck._

_"What the hell?! Get off!" he yelled at her, struggling to get free. The woman ripped off his jacket and showed him her unusually long, pointed fingernails. She must have filed them that way._

_"You're crazy," Tony realised as he stared at her, then turned round to look at the man gleaming in the dim blue light of empty room they were in. Tony didn't even know where they were, only that they had knocked him out on his way from the pub to get a taxi and they taken him somewhere secluded._

_"Well, actually, I was let out of the Mental Institution five years ago," she said innocently, an evil gleam in her eye. God – she actually was crazy - and evil! "I'm well on the way to recovery, they say…"_

_"I doubt that," Tony hissed. The man growled in his ear._

_The woman lunged at Tony and clawed at his chest, ripping apart his t-shirt, then started tracing his chest lightly with her fingers. Then she started kissing him._

_Tony was horrified. This was nothing like when Pepper kissed him gently on the lips with tenderness – he had actually felt, well, loved. But this was horrible. The crazed woman was kissing him roughly, going further down his torso, while the man just laughed. Tony swallowed thickly._

_"Don't worry," the man whispered in his ear. "She kisses me like that too."_

_Then the woman started undoing his jeans and gleamed up at Tony, who suddenly became paralysed with fear, his heart beating hard in his chest._

_"Why are you d-doing thi-"_

_Tony wasn't able to finish as he was knocked to the floor from behind him. He scrambled about, noticing his arm was bleeding, but it barely even hurt, especially compared to his head._

_"Max was in jail for sexual assault before we met," the woman said, coming closer towards Tony as he backed into the wall. Max came towards him and bent down, his faces inches from Tony's. He punched Tony in the gut._

_"Argh!" Tony exclaimed as he winced in pain, his body curling up on himself._

_"Did I mention that I'm bisexual?" Max said._

_God, this could not be happening…_

_The man he pushed Tony to the floor and pressed him onto his stomach. He grabbed Tony's butt and Tony clenched beneath him. The man laughed, and as if Tony couldn't be even more mortified the woman he saw to his right pulled out a video recorder and started playing._

_"Smile, Tony…" she said. "Come on, it can't be that hard - you've been doing it your whole life," she said scathingly. Tony struggled again, but there was no point. Max pulled his trousers and his boxers down-_

_"Please…Just don't. I'll do anything…" Tony hiccupped._

_"Really, Stark?" Max asked, but Tony knew that whatever price he had to pay wouldn't be good. God, he hated to sound so weak. But maybe that's what they needed to hear._

_"Hmph," he managed to rasp._

_"Ok then, how about we get that girl's name who we copied off his phone…what's her name again?" he asked the woman._

_"Pepper Potts," she said, reading off her own phone. Tony groaned._

_"Hmm, Pepper Potts…Let's give her a call shall we?" Max said. "Say her precious Tony Stark needs her help, tell her where she can find him, we might even offer a trade…"_

_"NO," Tony gasped._

_The man laughed._

_"You said it Stark," Max said, and Tony tried to prepare himself, but nothing could have prepared him for this, as Max suddenly thrusted himself into Tony._

_"You belong to me, Tony Stark," he whispered in Tony's ear, as Tony gasped out in agony and mortification. He had never felt this vulnerable in his life as a single tear leaked from his face from the pain. "Not Pepper Potts, not your precious Captain America-"_

_The woman hmphed. "I heard they're pretty close…I bet he'd want in on a bit of the action," she said._

_Steve? No, she was messing with him._

_No._

_They had said how much money they wanted._

_They had wacked him in the stomach with a pipe bar._

_They said they had eyes everywhere, and that if he made one wrong move, they would retaliate. Against him. Against others – against people he cared about._

_He had believed them and didn't argue._

_The woman closed the cam-corder and smiled gleefully at the wrecked sight that was Tony Stark._

_The last thing Tony saw was the pipe bar being passed from Crazy Man to Crazy Woman, as the woman lifted it over her head as she prepared to strike-_

"NO!"

Tony woke with a start.

He was sweating and shaking, but he realised was alone, safe, wrapped in the sheets of his bed, with dried blood on the pillow. Mostly when Tony woke from pleasant dreams or strange nightmares, he realised that they weren't real straight away.

This time, he knew it had been real, as his shaking, bandaged arm went to his head to feel it carefully. It ached. He reached over to grab his pain pills and downed several of them with some water. He sat up in his bed, with his back resting against the headboard. He didn't want to go back to sleep. He would only return to his nightmares.

With a shaking hand, he put his glass back on his bedside table, but it slipped and smashed onto the floor. Tony sighed and covered his face with his hands and started moaning.

"Oh God...Jesus…why? What...," Tony couldn't make sense of what had happened. Why him? Why did it have to hurt so much? Physically all over, but also he felt a deep ache in his chest, where all his dignity seemed to have shrivelled away. Tony's breaths became more rapid as he felt tears rise.

"No," he gasped. "Can't cry…that's just w-weak, it can't-it-no…" Then he couldn't control himself. He let out a massive sob and cried and cried and gasped and he couldn't breathe, and his head hurt, and-

"Sir, I believe you are having a panic attack," Jarvis' voice cut through.

"Y-you think?" Tony stuttered. He grabbed a pillow and threw it across the room in anger.

"Sir, I would suggest-"

"ARGH! DAMMIT, DAMN YOU AND DAMN IT!" Tony yelled in frustration.

"You need to take deep breathes, sir," said Jarvis calmly. Tony tried to calm down. He wiped his tears, but they kept coming. He took hold of his bedside lamp, ripped it out of its socket and threw it so that it smashed on the floor. Tony breathed again. Put his hands beside him. Held them still. Breathe. Calm.

"Would you like me to call Dr Banner or Captain Steve-"

"NO! Don't call anyone…" he interrupted Jarvis, resigned, as his panic subsided and he sat there on his bed, defeated. He stared at the opposite wall, and blinked his blurry vision away as his wet face became cold. He stared at the cream wall but didn't see anything. He didn't feel anything. He just sat there and stared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to clarify, cause it annoyed me reading through it - the fact that they (the OC's) were in a mental hospital or are bisexual is obviously no justification or stereotyping, but rather them trying to use those things as an excuse. Cause, you know, they're evil.  
> Actually, the majority of violent crimes and homicides are committed by people who do not have mental health problems.  
> Stories and instances like these might just be an exception, or is just fiction like this.


	3. Chapter 3

Steve strided into the kitchen that morning to greet Bruce as he was eating his cereal at the island counter. He had told him that he saw Tony last night, and were discussing their suspicions.

"So Rhodey left at about nine," Bruce clarified, looking up from his cereal as Steve sat down on the couch and started reading the morning newspaper and nodded in response. "And Tony got in after one o'clock? What could he have been doing all that time?"

Steve sighed. "The only conclusion I can come to is that he got drunk and did something stupid. Which is _exactly_ what I feared would happen when Rhodey told me he'd left him alone in the pub."

"But that can't be right – Tony's been good with the alcohol for a while now, I don't think he would do that. Maybe he met up with someone?" Bruce replied hopefully.

"Yea, maybe," Steve said darkly and Bruce frowned at him. "Maybe he met a nice lady while he was there."

"You don't think-"

"I think it's entirely possible. And I know he was a bit of a lady player before, Rhodey told me."

"I don't think Tony would do that to Pepper, Steve," Bruce said resolutely. "I know him and Pepper are on a bit of a break at the moment, but still, I - I don't think he'd do anything to jeopardise that."

Steve nodded. "I hope you're right," he said, as he set the newspaper down and headed to the workout room a few floors up. Bruce tidied after himself and went to the lab. He thought Tony would be there, but he wasn't. Huh.

"Jarvis?" Bruce called out to the intercom. "Where's Tony?"

"Mr Stark is in his room sir. He is sleeping," Jarvis said, as if to say that Bruce shouldn't interrupt him – Tony very rarely slept in this late, and Bruce began to fear that what Steve implied about Tony could be true after all.

Steve had been doing his workout session for nearly two hours, and it was coming up to midday. He had been venting out his frustration on the punching bag about Tony being so darn secretive, when the door opened and Bruce walked in.

"Hey Steve. I'm er, a bit worried about Tony…" he said, as Steve stopped what he was doing and pulled his gloves off.

"He's still in his room, he hasn't even come out yet today," Bruce explained, looking worried as Steve mirrored his concern and then looked up to the ceiling.

"Jarvis? What's Tony doing?" he asked the intercom.

"Don't bother; I already tried-"

"Tony is in his room, Captain Rogers, and I believe he wishes to be left alone," said Jarvis. Bruce thought it strange that Jarvis said he 'believed' that Tony wished to be left alone, but not that that's what Tony specifically _said._

"Yes, but what is he _doing_?" Steve pressed.

Jarvis paused for a moment.

"He isn't doing anything, Captain," the AI replied.

Steve and Bruce were both quiet. This was not like Tony. Not at _all_ – he was always doing _something_ , otherwise he got overwhelmingly bored and frustrated.

"I'm going up to see him," muttered Bruce, and Steve grabbed his jacket and followed him to the elevator.

They approached Tony's room as Bruce looked at Steve briefly, then went ahead and knocked.

"Tony? It's me, Bruce," he said, and listened carefully for a reply.

They didn't hear anything.

Bruce tried to turn the doorknob but it was locked. He sighed and rubbed his eyes.

"I'm afraid I have specific orders not to let anyone in, Dr Banner," Jarvis stated.

Steve banged on the door. "Come on Tony, we know you're in there. You could just let us know that you're _alive,_ " Steve said, a little exasperated.

Tony jumped when there was a knock at the door. He had been sitting in silence for so long he thought he might have gone deaf, but it was surprisingly peaceful without any noise.

"Dr Banner and Captain Rogers appear to be concerned about you, Tony," said Jarvis, when Tony made no move to answer the calls at the door.

Tony groaned as he rubbed his eyes and slowly, carefully, got out of bed. He leaned on the counter for support, but when he put his other foot down it reacted with something sharp.

"Argh - d _ammit_ ," Tony cursed as he lifted his foot up to see a small piece of glass from the bottom of his foot which was now bleeding slightly. Tony sat back on the bed, and carefully pulled the glass back out.

"Tony? Are you alright?" he recognised Bruce's worried voice from the other side of the door. Tony cleared his throat.

"Yea, I'm fine," he said, but then a wave of pain suddenly crashed over him.

"Jarvis, where do we keep the extra medications?" Tony squeaked, holding himself in pain again. He heard some shuffling outside the door.

"On the 22nd floor, sir," Jarvis replied.

"Crap. I'll have to go up there. I've run out of pain meds, and I don't think these ones are strong enough."

"Sir, may I also suggest lactulose?" Jarvis proposed.

"What's that for?" He thought he had heard of that before somewhere, but his brain was fuzzy.

"During my more thorough body scans I have detected a rectal tear, sir, and lactulose is very effective in repairing them," he said matter-of-factly.

Tony sighed in resentful understanding, and carefully got out of bed the other side.

"Thanks, Jar," Tony said and limped over to his dresser.

"Tony, if you don't let us in right now, I'm breaking this door down," Steve's deep, authoritative voice threatened from behind the door. Tony froze and his heartrate uncontrollably increased with fear. He became frustrated for not being able to _control_ himself.

"Hold on a sec! I'm just getting dressed, and trust me, that's a sight you don't wanna see…" Tony replied smarmily, and realised just how true it was at this moment. Tony thought he could practically _feel_ Rogers rolling his eyes at the other side of the door.

Tony carefully took his clothes off and winced from the pain in his ribs – his torso was red and black from bruises. He threw the clothes in the bin, being perfectly ruined, and put on some comfortable joggers and a long-sleeve t-shirt to hide the injury on his forearm. Somehow he had missed the full-length mirror on his wardrobe and when he looked up and saw himself he took in a deep breath.

Well, he couldn't go out like _that_ , he thought.

He carefully peeled off the dirty bandage off his head to reveal brown-red blood matting down his hair. He was also sporting a purpley-black eye.

"Jarvis, tell them I'm going in the bath and not to disturb me. This room is Captain-America proof, right?"

"It is hulk-proof, sir," Jarvis clarified.

"Ha," laughed Tony hollowly. "I'd like to see him try and get through that," Tony huffed and stalked off to his large marble bathroom suite. The taps automatically started running in his large, luxurious bathtub as Tony took off his clothes and smoothed into the bath.

"Ahh," Tony sighed as the warm water melted around him. He lied down in the bath and tried to relax.

Tony cleaned all the blood off him and dried off afterwards. Damn. He'd have to get some bandages from the medic room as well – how was he going to explain this to Bruce and Steve? And to God knows who else will be turning up to his open bed-and-breakfast…

Steve was annoyed and huffed as he went off to the kitchens to make some lunch. He asked Bruce if he had wanted to join him, but Bruce had decided to wait outside Tony's door.

"Jarvis? Are they still outside?" Tony asked, as he was getting his clothes on.

"Bruce is waiting outside the door for you sir; the Captain is on the floor below."

Tony perked up at that prospect – Steve was out of the way, and Bruce might be able to help him. He might even need stiches. He found a scarf to put around his neck to disguise his…discrepancies, and put a hoodie on, pulled it over his head and opened the door.

"Hey, Bruce. How's it going?" Tony asked, as he closed the door behind him and walked down the hall to the elevator.

Bruce walked alongside him, noticing his slight limp.

"What happened Tony? Where did you go last night?" he asked.

Tony glanced at him and a flash of fear crossed his face.

"Er, nothing, don't worry about it…" Tony winced at the pain in his hip of trying to walk normally so as not to arise any suspicion. They got in the elevator.

"You know where, Jarvis…" Tony said tiredly, as he leaned against the back wall and the elevator moved smoothly upwards.

"What's wrong Tony? Are you ill?" Bruce enquired, as he noticed Tony was trying to hide his face under his hoodie and was holding his stomach. Tony looked at Bruce and the doctor saw how Tony's eyes weren't right – they were puffy and the area around his eyes were dark - a mixture of red and purple.

"Tony-"

Tony walked out of the elevator into the large medical room and headed over to the medicine cabinet.

"What are you looking for?" Bruce asked as he followed Tony cautiously _. Always asking questions…_

Tony hastily checked the label of every bottle of pills to find the right one. Finally, he found one of the strongest pain medications, popped it open and downed two of the pink pills into his mouth and swallowed dryly. He turned around and set the bottle on the counter.

Bruce walked over and picked up the pain meds to see what they were. He immediately cast a worried glance at Tony, who had walked over to the full-length windows overlooking the city. He put his head down and closed his eyes. God, he hoped the meds kicked in soon.

"Tony, what did you use these for?" Bruce demanded, striding over to him with purpose. "You can't just use these lightly-"

"I _know_ ," Tony replied through gritted teeth. He suddenly felt light-headed with the pain and wearily went to sit down in the nearest chair. He took his hood off, rubbed his eyes, hoping that Bruce couldn't tell he had been crying, and then crossed his arms. Bruce's mouth parted in shock.

" _Tony_! What happened to you?" Bruce hurried over to him and started inspecting his bruised face and the red gash that was peeking out from his hairline. Tony shrinked his head away from Bruce, uncomfortable with the sudden closeness. Bruce looked astonished.

"It's not that bad, is it?" Tony said, still flinching away from Bruce, "I won't need stitches, will I?"

"If you could just let me _look_ …" Bruce uttered, and Tony gave up trying to lean away from him, and he let the past doctor feel his head to inspect the damage.

"I don't think you'll need stiches, no, but Tony-"

"Can't you just, you know, clean it up then or something?" Tony asked, his tone impatient. Bruce sighed and stepped away from Tony. He shook as his head and walked over to one of the cabinets to get some wound-cleansing wipes and bandages. He walked over to Tony, pulled up a chair and sat next to him. He pulled out a cleansing wipe and started to wipe Tony's head.

"Ah! It's cold…" Tony muttered. The cool wipe on his forehead reminded him of Mad Man Max's cold, pasty hands. Tony shuddered.

"Just hold still," Bruce said. "So, are you going to tell me what happened now?"

Tony grunted.

Bruce should have known that would've been the stubborn genius' response, as he scrunched up the wipe and put it on the table next to them. He picked up a bandage and peeled away the plastic, then gently stuck it onto Tony's head, which was a little difficult with his hair in the way. He flattened Tony's hair back so it wouldn't get in the way and pressed the bandage down. Tony clenched his jaw, and Bruce sat back down in his seat as he frowned at Tony.

"Any other injuries I should know about?" Bruce asked, slightly sarcastically.

Tony rolled his eyes, sighed heavily and reached to take his sock off. He folded his injured foot over his other leg as Bruce squinted at it through his glasses.

"Stepped on some glass…" Tony mumbled.

"So that's why you were limping?" Bruce asked, as he reached for another wipe and started the process again.

"Well, that and I also have a slightly bad hip," Tony admitted, looking away. "And my arm's pretty bad too… and Jarvis told me I have a broken rib…"

"Mr Stark, Agent Romanoff-" Jarvis started.

"You _what_?!" Bruce said incredulously, ignoring Jarvis, as he finished bandaging Tony's foot.

"Well, you know-"

"I am sorry to interrupt sir, but Agent Romanoff is outside the building and I believe she would like to come in," Jarvis finished.

"Oh no, she won't be happy about that," Tony said and took a deep breath. He waved his hand, "Yea, let her in Jarvis."

Bruce was staring at Tony with concern, confusion and exasperation in equal measure.

His wrist watch started to beep and he looked down at it. 120 bpm.

Bruce closed his eyes and took a deep breath in, then let it out through his mouth.

"You alright?" Tony asked quietly.

"Yes, I'm _fine_ ," Bruce said, calming down. "But _you_ aren't. Tell me what happened, and I can _help_ you. You might not have heard that word before, but it's what doctors _do_."

Tony improvised.

"I, er, fell down some steps. At…the pub," Tony said, trying to avoid Bruce's eyes.

"You fell down the _stairs_? And it caused all this damage?" Bruce motioned Tony's body.

"Well, you know, there were a lot of steps," Tony said. "And they were...hard."

Bruce looked at him and frowned.

"And you didn't think to ask someone there to help you? Hang on, weren't you with anyone?" Bruce tried to put the pieces together. Tony realised that heand Steve must have tried to figure out on their own what had happened to Tony last night.

"Well, yea, sure, I got talking with a…er, friend…and then they left, and then I fell down the stairs and got a taxi home," Tony replied lightly, now a bit more assured with his cover story.

"And you didn't think to tell me, or Steve, as _soon_ as you got back?" Bruce was getting annoyed at Tony's own stubbornness and I-don't-need-anyone's-help ness.

"Well, you were asleep-" Bruce looked up at Tony incredulously again and he had to rethink his words.

" _I_ wanted to go to sleep. I was tired," said Tony.

Bruce shook his head. "You should have gone to hospital Tony, for this amount of damage…" Then he saw the look on Tony's face. He sighed, and wanted to further berate Tony for neglecting to get help, but then Bruce remembered that at this moment, all Tony needed was a doctor. Bruce got to work straight away, checking Tony's bruised ribs and bandaging his arm.

Meanwhile, Natasha strolled into the kitchen area, where Steve was eating.

"Why did I have to get Tony's permission to get in here?" she said, crossing her arms, her blue eyes narrowing.

"Well, good afternoon to you too, Natasha," Steve said, setting his fork and wiping his hands on a tissue. The Black Widow scowled. "Don't ask me; I didn't even know you had to have his permission."

"Well, no, because I've never had to before," she said.

"I honestly don't know," Steve shrugged, as he started to clear up his plate. The room smelled of warm bread. "Tony's been acting a little weird lately anyway… he came in late last night – from the _pub_ \- and me and Bruce haven't even seen him today yet."

Natasha glanced at the clock. 13:45. She looked at Steve and frowned.

"Jarvis, where's Stark?" she said, not taking her eyes off the Captain. He furrowed his brows at her.

"He's on the 22nd floor, Agent, with Dr Banner," Jarvis replied.

Natasha raised her eyebrows at Steve.

"Come on then, let's go and ask him for ourselves," she challenged, and stalked off towards the elevator. Steve followed her, curiosity getting the better of him.

Tony flexed his newly bandaged arm.

"Thanks, Bruce," he said, smiling at him, feeling better as the pain meds had started kicking in, and all he could feel now was a dull ache in his stomach and head. He grabbed a see-through plastic bag from the table, and put the bottle of pain meds in there, as well as a handful of extra bandages that he would have to reapply. He walked over to the medicine cabinet and fumbled around until he found the bottle of liquid lactulose, and he put that in his bag too.

Bruce was behind him.

"Tony, if you're having any other problems you know you can talk to me about it," Bruce said importantly, seeing what Tony had put in the bag.

"Yea, I know," replied Tony dryly. "I'm fine, really."

As Bruce was about to say something, the elevator doors opened and Steve and Natasha walked in, seeing Tony and Bruce leaning on the countertops. Natasha eyed the bag of medications that Tony was clenching in his hand, trying to read the labels of them, while Steve was looking at Tony's bruised face and bandaged arm and his mouth popped open in surprise. Tony grimaced and looked away. He didn't want them here. It was stupid, but he felt as though if someone looked at him hard enough they might be able to see straight through him, and would know exactly what had happened…

Tony rolled down his sleeve over his bandaged arm and walked over to them, trying excruciatingly hard not to limp.

"Hey Cap, Natasha," he greeted, trying to remain calm. Steve looked from Tony to Bruce, hoping to get some answers.

"Tony had a little _accident_ ," Bruce explained, crossing his arms. "He fell down the stairs at the pub, and he thought it a good idea if he just went to _bed_ last night instead of asking one of us to help him." Tony gritted his teeth and gave Bruce a sour look. He flexed his hands around the bag he was holding and tried to walked past Steve, heading for the elevator.

Steve grabbed his arm.

"Tony, why didn't you-"

" _Let go of me_ ," Tony hissed dangerously as he tried to suppress the rising feeling of bile in his throat. Steve let go and looked at him oddly.

"I thought that wasn't your bandaged arm," Steve said, but Tony just looked away. Agent Romanoff was observing Tony and thought his behaviour was particularly unusual, to say the least.

"Look, I'd like to go and get some rest now, and I'd _appreciate_ it if I could be left _alone_ ," Tony said, looking at each of them in turn.

"Why couldn't I get in the tower earlier, Tony?" This time it was Natasha, and Tony frowned at the question, but then remembered his conversation with Jarvis earlier about the lockdown.

"Oh, that's nothing," Tony waved it off, "Just stepping up the security, you know? Don't want any old folk walkin' in..."

Natasha narrowed her eyes in suspicion but didn't say any more about it.

Steve looked at Tony and spoke gentler than usual, "Tony, we're a _team_. We're supposed to help each other-" Tony started to roll his eyes at Steve's comment, and suddenly Jarvis interrupted.

"Mr Stark, you have an incoming call from your most recent addition to your phonebook, a Ms Perrimore."

Tony froze and felt his heart stop and constrict in his chest.

"Don't answer," he said, swallowing. Steve and Bruce looked at each other, as if their suspicions had been confirmed, but Natasha was looking at Stark.

"Wait, Jarvis!" Tony said, rethinking. Damn, that _woman_ must have put her phone number in his phone, and whatever other information she had access to, before she smashed it to pieces.

"Don't answer, but don't _decline_ it either," Tony said niftily. Hopefully this way the mad woman wouldn't be _offended._

"Yes, sir," came Jarvis' reply.

The others waited. Tony looked back at them, his face contorted with dread.

"Sir, Ms Perrimore has left you a message, would you like me to-"

"No!" Tony said hurriedly. "I'll check it later, Jar."

"As you wish, sir."

Steve crossed his arms and was looking at Tony sternly.

"So," said the Captain. Tony braved himself. "Who was that? The _friend_ you met last night?"

Tony was confused by this, but too paranoid to think anything of it.

"Uh – yea, you could say that…" he muttered. "It doesn't matter though, she's no one, honestly."

"Really," came Captain Rogers' response. Bruce piped up.

"Come on, Steve, we don't know what happened, I think Tony's right – for once – he needs to rest," he said mildly, on Tony's side for the sake of him getting better.

Steve walked up until he was face to face with Tony and crossed his arms. Tony tried to look up at him, but he felt very small compared to Steve, and it made him feel unnervingly vulnerable. Natasha looked on warily, catching eyes with Bruce, who was uneasy with the tension.

"It'll be much easier if you tell us the truth, you know," Steve said. Tony's fear was quickly turning to anger.

"Maybe it's none of your damn _business_ ," Tony said icily, his voice shaking. Steve uncrossed his arms and frowned at him.

"Dammit Stark, we're only trying to _help_ you," Steve's voice was rising, and Natasha stepped closer. "-and you go and get yourself hitched with another girl straight after taking a break with Pepper? What's wrong with you?"

Tony realised what Steve was saying and he took a step back in surprise.

"You – you think…" he said, and swallowed, shaking his head. Steve looked at him questioningly. Suddenly Tony couldn't do it anymore, and all he knew what that his whole body was shaking and he was falling.

"Tony!"


	4. Chapter 4

Natasha's voice shrieked calling Tony as she rushed over to catch him. She hooked an arm around his waist as he lay on the metal floor, whimpering, his body convulsing in tremors. Bruce rushed over and bent down to hold Tony's head as he lay on the floor.

"Tony? Tony, can you hear me?"

Tony took deep breathes. He was panicking - again – and this time in front of his friends. Steve couldn't understand what had happened, but just bent down next to Bruce.

"What's wrong with him?" The nervous soldier asked. "Can I do anything, get anything…"

"He's having a mild seizure, probably due to the head injury – he has quite a bad concussion -and he's also having a panic attack – due to stress, most likely," Bruce said wearily, and he caught eyes with Steve who then looked at Natasha's worried face ashamedly. Bruce checked Tony's pulse. It was rapid.

"Tony, I need to you to calm down," came Bruce's soothing voice.

Tony's eyes were wide open, but he couldn't comprehend what was happening.

The memories had come flooding back to him.

 _The woman's voice dripped with venom._ "Stark."

_A blow to the stomach._

_A cruel man's laughter._

Tony gasped and saw Natasha's worried stance next to him, holding his waist, Bruce feeling his clammy forehead and Steve just looking at him helplessly, concerned and remorseful. Tony took a deep breath in, and breathed out again, then breathed in…

"That's it Tony, good…" Bruce soothed. Natasha was holding tightly onto Tony's bandaged arm and he winced in pain as he tried to pull it away from her.

"Get off me! Please, just stop it-" Tony's voice rasped.

"That's his bad arm, Nat," Steve said quietly. Natasha instantly let go of Tony and shared a guilty glance with Steve. How bad were Tony's injuries to make him say _please_? They hadn't even asked.

Tony's body slowly stopped shaking, but his eyes were glassy and he was breathing uneasily.

"Sir, I am afraid that my communications systems seemed to be - over – over riding," Jarvis' stuttered as the opposite wall was suddenly filled by a big screen.

Tony felt his insides twist in terror.

"Hello, Mr Stark."

Steve looked up at the screen as Natasha and Bruce helped Tony to sit up.

"Jarvis – get it – get her off the screen - _now_ ," Tony hissed, his voice trembling, as everybody turned to watch a blonde woman's face taking up the screen.

"I'm afraid that there's noth – nothing that I can d – do, sir-"

"You're not the only one with advanced technology, you know," the mad woman's voice cut in, her eyes so dark they were almost black, searing into Tony's.

"Tony, who is that?" Bruce whispered to him, still keeping his arm around Tony. None of them missed the loathing in the woman's – and Tony's voice. Tony just shook his head, unable to take his eyes off the screen. Steve stood up and talked to the woman on the screen.

"Who are you? What do you want?" Steve demanded.

"Ha – Captain America! What a pleasure," drawled the woman, and she smiled, showing her white teeth. "My name's Ms Perrimore. Tony didn't mention me? Oh Tony, I thought I meant more to you than that." She looked down at Tony and he snarled at her viciously.

"Get of my screen, you bitch, or I swear to God-" Tony started, and Steve looked back at him and was surprised at the amount of anger, and fear, in his eyes. Ok, he had definitely misunderstood the situation and felt even worse for lashing out at Tony. How did Tony know this woman? Did it have something to do with what Tony was doing last night?

The woman laughed at Tony. "Oh Stark, I'd stop with the threats if I were you. I want my money, and I want it now. But also, it would make my job so much easier if I had the weapons you have. I want Iron Man, Stark," she smirked at him. "I already own you, so why not the whole set?" Tony flinched at her words, and Natasha held onto him, as he started shaking again, this time in pure fear and hatred.

"Jarvis – reboot," Tony whispered, hoping the AI could still hear him.

"What are you talking about? What job?" Steve asked the screen, getting angry now.

"Well you see, Captain, it's my job to persuade people to give me what I want – so that I can help my…benefactors."

"What do you mean you own him?" Bruce cautiously stood up, leaving Tony with Natasha, and approached the screen, standing next to Steve. Bruce could feel his heart beating hard in his chest, but ignored it. The woman's narrow eyes stared at him, and then she backed away, still smiling, and another man with a roughly shaven stubble and messy brown hair came onto the screen just in front of the woman.

"That was my job, actually – not hers."

The Mad Man.

 _"No,"_ Tony gasped and backed away, his hatred instantly turning to fear as he shuffled on the floor to get further away, clutching onto the scarf around his neck, to make sure the air was still going down his throat-

"Well, well, Mr Stark."

Steve saw Tony and rushed over to him, crouching down.

"Tony - calm down. They can't get you here, they can't do anything-"

"Oh, I think we already did enough," the man on the screen interrupted, and smirked.

Tony looked up at Steve and hid behind him like a scared animal, his face a mask of fear and anger. Steve had never seen him like this before, and put his hand on his shoulder to try and calm him down. Bruce was looking between the screen and Tony in oblivion and Natasha won't over to him steadily.

"Bruce?" Natasha approached him and gently touched his arm and he nodded at her, and started taking deep breathes.

The screen's vision started faltering.

"Listen carefully, Stark," the woman said through the screen again, as she knew the connection was going to be lost soon. "Unless you want that lovely video I took, ha-ha… Well, you better pay up, or it'll go all over the internet for all your friends to see…" She lifted her head saying the words and left her mouth slowly open, smiling again.

Natasha turned her face up to the screen, giving the woman and man on the screen a lethal stare. The man's eyes were gleaming.

"No," said Tony, looking up to the screen and challenging the woman. "You won't, you can't," Tony's voice broke and Steve gripped onto him tighter. "I won't – I won't let you, you-"

He opened his mouth to say something - when suddenly the screen went off, and all was silent, except for Tony's laboured panting and quiet whimpering.

He couldn't breathe, and clutched at his throat. Bruce came up to him, looked at Steve, then back at Tony.

"Tony, they've gone now," Bruce said, as Natasha came up slowly from behind him.

"Reboot successful, Mr Stark. I am currently trying to find the location of the source of the cyber-attack," said Jarvis. "I diagnose that Tony is having a panic attack again, and would personally recommend that-"

"Yes, thank you, Jarvis, I know," said Bruce through his teeth. The AI went quiet.

Tony's eyes lolled and his head drooped onto Steve's shoulders as he fell unconscious.

"Tony?" Steve shook him, and anxiously looked at Bruce.

"Pick him up, put him on the bed," Bruce said, his face impassive, as he stood up and went over to the medical bed, and started setting up the equipment to measure Tony's vitals.

Steve looked at Natasha and she just shrugged at him.

"Tony, can you hear me?" Steve asked Tony as he lay limp on the floor, head resting in Steve's arms, but he didn't respond.

"Ok, then…" Steve scooped up Tony from beneath him and picked him up. The weight wasn't really a problem for Captain America, but he was sure Tony would not be very happy about it. He carefully laid Tony down on the white bed under the bright light, and stepped away as Bruce hooked him up to the monitors. Natasha came up and stood at the foot of the bed, unable to take her eyes off Tony.

"His heart-rate is fairly steady," Bruce said, adjusting his glasses, and Natasha abruptly looked to him. "And his blood pressure is slightly high, but I think he'll be alright. He's gonna have to stay here a while, where I can keep an eye on him." Bruce took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes, while they all looked at Tony's motionless figure with his dark clothes on and his sweaty and bruised face.

"He can't be comfortable with that on…" Bruce muttered as he leaned over Tony, picked his head up gently and carefully unwound the scarf from Tony's neck. He put the scarf down on the metal table and went over to the medical screens to examine Tony's health.

Steve gasped sharply at Tony's ever-more revealing appearance.

He went over to Tony and touched his face to push it slightly so he could get a better look at his face and neck. Natasha slowly approached the other side of Tony's bed and shared a look of horror with Steve.

"Somehow I don't think this was caused by falling down the stairs…" Natasha said quietly, looking at Tony again.

"Bruce, I think you'd better see this," Steve said seriously as he leaned from Tony and lifted his hand to rub his chin nervously.

Bruce came over, looking confused, and Natasha stepped out of the way to let him inspect Tony.

The right side of Tony's neck was covered in a large purple bruise, the edges of which looked suspiciously like fingerprints. Bruce pursed his lips and lifted Tony's chin so he could see the other side. There was a red sort of rash there, that if he didn't know any better he would say it was a _love bite_ , and further down if he lifted the hem of Tony's t-shirt slightly he could see bright red _bite_ marks in his shoulder.

"Oh my god…" Bruce exclaimed softly, as he looked to the others.

"You think he was lying? About what happened to him last night?" The doctor looked at the other two for answers.

"I think whatever Tony went through he is not willing to share it with us," Natasha said. "Once, he was dying of _palladium_ poisoning and still didn't tell anybody." Steve looked up at her.

"It definitely had something to do with that couple on the screen," Steve said. "Did you see how afraid Tony was? How _angry_ he was? Especially when they mentioned a video…" Steve trailed off, furrowing his brows as he tried to figure it all out. Bruce grabbed yet another cleansing wipe and started to clean Tony's bite wound. He'd also have to check his blood for infection. But he didn't have all the equipment here.

"There's not exactly a short number of videos of him on the internet," Natasha supplied, somewhat disapprovingly but at the same time distant. "Most of them being when he was drunk at a party, or at a press conference or something – whatever they have on him, it must be pretty bad."

"But– why did they did this to him?" Bruce said angrily, clenching his fists. He looked away from his friend on the bed, unable to look at him anymore. "I should have known he was lying!"

"Honesty is not exactly his strongest suit, Bruce. Nothing new there," Steve said gently, trying to ease him. "What's important is that he gets better." Bruce nodded silently and flexing his hands, he went over with a sample of Tony's blood to test it and to look at more thorough body scans.

Natasha pulled up a chair and sat next to Tony's bed.

Steve looked at her. "What?" she said sceptically, raising an eyebrow. "You know how much of a drama queen Tony is, he's probably gonna be out all day." She picked up the bag of medications that Tony had had and looked at them carefully, then stared wistfully at Tony. Steve followed Natasha's gaze and frowned. He didn't like Tony like this; he had always thought as Tony as invincible, but right now he looked too vulnerable and Steve found was actually missing the sarcastic comments he'd come out with, or the references to modern pop culture that he probably wouldn't understand. So, he grabbed a chair and sat down, pondering silently alongside Natasha, and waited for him to wake up.


	5. Chapter 5

Natasha went over to Bruce, who had starting pacing nervously by the window.

"Bruce? What is it?" She asked him. Bruce bit his lip.

"I just…I just can't stop thinking about how Tony was so – so _scared_ of those people; it still doesn't make sense," he said, shaking his head.

"Jarvis wouldn't tell me any of his injuries," the doctor continued, his brows furrowing. "Not that I couldn't figure it out, what with all this equipment in the lab," Bruce gestured to the medical machines and screens, "But Tony had instructed Jarvis not to tell anyone, and Jarvis said that his _physical_ health is not in any immediate danger, so he followed Stark's orders." Natasha looked at him, uneasily following his line of thought.

"What if…" Bruce started, nervously meeting Natasha's gaze, "What if they…you know, with the bite marks and everything, and Tony's limp, and-"

Natasha sucked in a breath and nodded, understanding what he was saying. That particularly _awful_ thought had gone through her mind as well. "It is a possibility, yes Bruce…" she said slowly.

"Tony…he - he wouldn't recover from that. It doesn't suit Tony to be this vulnerable, he's always the one in control, and now that he's lost that – if that is what happened – well, he has no one, Nat. He doesn't have Pepper anymore…"

"He has us, Bruce," Natasha said gently. "We'll help him through it. He trusts us-"

"Does he? He practically flinched every time I touched him-"

"He's probably in shock," Natasha reasoned. "And he's scared – these people just threatened him."

Bruce's face darkened. "Yea, what are we going to do about that, by the way?" He said through gritted teeth.

"We'll find a way to deal with them," she replied. "Fury has a secure Avengers Facility prison far, far away from here, and once we find them we will _deal_ with them, and ship them off so they can stay in that hell hole and rot away for the rest of time, for all I care."

Bruce clenched his jaw; he felt they needed more than that. In fact, he was pretty sure if he came face to face with them he would hulk out, rip them apart, and not even feel guilty about it afterwards. Bruce sighed. He didn't want his mind to wander to these violent notions, but the rage of what those people had done was building up in him. He held onto Natasha's hand for support. She held onto his firmly.

Steve had gone to make some food for his teammates in the afternoon, and after he had eaten he sat by Tony, setting down some glasses of water on the metallic table next to him, one for him and one for Tony when he woke up. He had secretly gone to Tony's room to see if he could get in, maybe look for clues, but Jarvis said that he had securely locked it on Stark's orders. Natasha and Bruce were having a heart-to-heart over by the windows, and the Captain was running a hand through his hair when Tony  
started to stir.

"Hm…Ow," Tony moaned as he groggily woke up and looked around him. What had happened again?

Oh. The video chat. Well, crap.

He'd have to pay up that money _now_ , and maybe he would throw in an extra five million dollars to appease them. He couldn't give them the iron man suits, dammit, he wasn't going to give any sort of weapons to those sorts of people. Didn't they know what had happened in Afghanistan? He just hoped they'd be happy with the money.

But of course, he thought wretchedly, people like that wouldn't accept anything less than what they asked for. They would not bargain with him.

He realised he was on the medical bed. How had he got there? How long had it been since he had passed out?

"Tony?" Steve asked worriedly, leaning towards his bed. "It's ok, you're safe." Tony looked at his concerned face and tried not to scowl. "How do you feel?"

"Not bad, considering…" Tony said and sat up in bed, making to get out of it.

"Ah, no," Steve said and gently put a hand on the man's chest to put him back on the bed. "Tony, you need to rest."

Tony paused at the Cap's touch.

"I can rest in my own bed," he said through gritted teeth, and placed his hands on the Cap's to push them away. He didn't want Steve to restrain him as well. He especially didn't want Steve to push him down onto a bed…

Tony involuntarily shuddered, and Steve frowned at him, but hovered in case Tony felt faint again. Was that… _fear_ Tony had in his eyes? Tony wouldn't be afraid of him, would he?

Natasha and Bruce had heard them and turned away from the window, marching over to Tony's side, as he was wearily getting out of bed.

"Tony, you should-" Natasha started.

"No, no, I should not," Tony argued back, not willing to _obey_ anyone at the moment. He put a hand to the lowest part of his stomach where his black t-shirt ended and clenched his jaw. Bruce shared a nervous look with Natasha, and went over to Tony, where Steve was hovering.

"Are you OK, Tony?" Bruce asked.

Tony sighed heavily. "Yea. I just need…"

Everyone held their breath.

"…To go to the toilet."

Steve sighed and put his lips together, trying to hold in a smile. He thought he saw Tony smirk slightly at his expression. Tony tried not to limp walking over to the elevator. Once he got in, he realised the other three had followed him. He raised an eyebrow at them.

"You all planning to accompany me to the bathroom?" He asked wryly of them. Bruce just looked at him painfully and Tony frowned at him, turning away as the elevator doors closed with them all in it. He wished he would stop looking at him like that.

"You need to talk about this, Tony," Bruce said, and Steve stole a sideways glance at Stark. He looked tired, and weary, and Steve felt sorry for him. Maybe it was better if he rested alone for a while, if that's what he really wanted. But something nagged at Steve and he didn't think it was right to leave Tony alone while he was in his state. Tony swallowed as he held onto his stomach. Or bladder, apparently.

"Tell us what happened," Natasha said softly. Tony just willed the elevator to go faster. "We know it had something to do with those people on the screen," she said, daring Tony to deny it. Steve looked from Natasha to Tony, hoping she had got to him; someone had to make him tell the truth eventually.

Tony just wrinkled his nose. Then, the elevator doors opened and he walked out, slowly making his way to his bedroom.

"I got this," Steve said to the others, holding them back, as he followed Tony to this room. He kept his distance behind him and adjusted to the man's slowed, apparently painful walk. Tony ignored him as he went into his room and slammed the door shut behind him.

He relaxed as soon as he was safely in his rooms. He went to the toilet and washed his face. He was aware that Steve was out the door, but he didn't really care. He would probably get tired soon anyway and give up, realising that it was a lost cause.

Tony sat down on his bed heavily. He decided that as soon as Jarvis picked up on those _people's_ location, he would go to them. He had to. He would have to get the video, and whatever else they have on him, or anyone for that matter, and he would _destroy_ it and then _destroy_ them. Burn them to _pieces_. Watch their faces in shock as they met their fate…

But he couldn't do that right now, he thought, as he flexed his clenched fists. Even with the suit – and he had made sure that the red and gold metallic case was under his bed just in case he needed it – he would still be too physically weak to fight. Then, he remembered.

He scrambled over to the pile of clothes he had thrown in the bin, and got out his bloody jeans and to pull out a crumpled card out of the back-jean pocket. On it was a name, and credit card details. Great.

"Jarvis, scan this card and send a private check to er, Ms Perrimore, for 25 million dollars," Tony ordered.

"Yes, sir," he replied.

"Ms Roxanne Perrimore, born in North Carolina 1986, resided in St Mary's Mental Institution from 2000-2006 for severe psychotic tendencies," Jarvis said as he accessed the international database. Tony listened intently. "She married Max Whitmore in 2007 after they met and they resided in New Jersey. Both of their records have been unclear since then, although her husband has been suspected in some minor crimes, as well as being charged and detained with sexual assault in 1998."

So, they were partners in crime. How lovely. He hoped their wedding was nice.

_They would pay for what they did._

_Whew. Deep breaths,_ Tony told himself. Yea, they would pay. Just… not right now.

Tony went over to the windows which looked out to the city. It was sort of…peaceful. The stationary skyscrapers. Cars beeping in the traffic, though he could hardly hear them behind the glass. A few stray birds flying over the city, up and up into the calm grey clouds…

Suddenly the billionaire felt a wave of tiredness crash over him. His eyes drooped and he put a hand on his windows in support and caught his reflection in the mirror. His face was still a bloody and bruised mess, but he also looked…tired. He looked _beaten_. Then he realised he didn't have his scarf on and felt around his neck.

"Damn," he cursed softly, rubbing the bandage which was now around his bite-mark. So the others had seen that. Great. What would they think of him now?

Taking in a deep breath, he looked away from his reflection and turned around to head towards his bed. He got in carefully and pulled the covers up to his chest. He just felt so horribly _violated_. His whole body was covered in cuts, bruises, bite marks, and he was just so _sore_ , even with the pain meds still making him drowsy and numbing the main part of the throbbing pains in his head and the rest of him. He felt tears threaten to rise and there it was again; that strange ache in his chest, as if his heart was deteriorating just from the stress of it all. He took deep breaths to try and push the tears back inside.

How had this happened to him? Why did it happen to _him_?

Maybe it was karma. Tony had messed up in his time, sometimes he had messed up big time, and that balance needed to be restored, right? He had to pay his due to the world someday to make up for what he had done – mainly the weapons that he created killing _innocent_ people…maybe – maybe this was it. This was his punishment.

But it still didn't change the fact that those _people_ had done him wrong. And now, Tony was going to make sure that karma came back round to them in the form of a red and gold suit.

He felt rage threatening to bubble in his chest, but he couldn't do this right now. He just had to sleep…He swallowed down his anger, and just closed his eyes, escaping into a dreamless oblivion.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some explicit scenes, distress.

Tony is quiet the next day. He doesn't eat much, or drink much, doesn't talk much, and doesn't _do_ much. He was just in his room, either watching TV miserably, or having JARVIS help him inject himself with serum in his other uninjured arm that connected him to his suit – the Mark 34, once again. This time, it would not falter.

At about midday he went to the bathroom, not feeling too great. There was blood when he wiped.

Dammit.

_Damn, damn, damn._

He switched from feeling overwhelmed by so many of the _bad_ emotions all at once, lashing out by punching the wall to shouting at the top of his lungs, to being absolutely still, sitting like a waxwork model on his bed or on the floor of his balcony, just staring out.

"Sir, I highly recommend that you get a proper physical examination by a doctor. Would you like me to call someone?" Jarvis had inquired.

He had said no. A little blood was nothing to worry about. Maybe if it got worse, he would call a doctor. But that was a last resort.

For now, he could _deal with it._

The others, however, were worried about him. Natasha had tried to talk to him when she came to deliver some food, but he had ignored her, and didn't eat the food. She told Bruce and he grew more nervous. Natasha used her computer to try to hack the video call, with the help of Jarvis, who was already running diagnostics on it, but it was proving to be more difficult than previously thought. They had decided the only way they might be able to pinpoint the exact location, and with more details, was if another video call was made.

Natasha hoped it wouldn't come to that. But it might have to.

Steve decided to visit at 17:00 with some soup he had made, along with some extra supplies.

He knocked on the door.

"Tony? It's me, Steve. I have some things for you," Steve said from outside the door.

Tony had his chin resting on his chest as he lay down in bed, his head leaning against the headboard. He was watching the steady rise and fall of his chest, finding it relaxing. It was quiet. He had turned the TV off, and the door to his balcony was open slightly to let in some fresh air, and so he could hear the quiet hum of the traffic and the wind.

He _may_ have made a bit of a mess of his room. And his hand.

He sighed and held up his trembling hand to inspect it. It was still covered in rusty blood from where he had had an _unfortunate_ disagreement with the wall earlier. And the lamp.

And the mirror.

Maybe if he just ignored Steve, the Captain would go away. And wouldn't see the disapproving mess Tony had made.

Another knock. _Crap._

"I made some soup for you, Tony – don't worry, it hasn't got any additives in it or anything. It's quite bland actually…Kinda like what we had in the war. But, er," Steve said awkwardly. "I thought, if you weren't feeling very well, then flavourless soup would be best. You've hardly eaten anything the past few days."

Tony closed his eyes and sighed. Steve was actually _trying_.

And the stubborn soldier wasn't giving up any time soon.

"I also have some fresh band-aids and cleansing wipes from Bruce if you need them, and a, er – hot water bottle. And an ice pack. I didn't really know which one you'd need, so I brought both. I mean, your injuries were pretty bad, so I thought…"

Without warning, the door opened and Tony was standing there, looking at him. Steve's mouth was open, suspended in mid-sentence, but then composed himself and shut it, smiling slightly. He was relieved that Tony had actually responded to him.

"Steve," he said evenly.

"Hi, Tony. Can I come in?" He asked.

Tony looked tired. Withdrawn. He eyed the soup and the other things Steve had brought with him and raised his eyebrow slightly at him.

"Sure. Welcome to the penthouse suite," Tony said dryly, as he opened the door fully, and left it open when Steve came in.

"It sure is nice in here…" Steve said, looking around at the large room and extra-expensive furniture. But he quickly realised that the room wasn't exactly what you called…polished. In fact, it was an absolute mess. He frowned at the pile of clothes that were shoved in the bin, and also the broken lamp. He set the soup and supplies down on the table, then he saw that the mirror was broken too.

"What…happened? Tony?" Steve asked, looking around to face him. Tony had taken the soup and sat back on his bed, sipping a small amount with the spoon, licking his lips. Then Steve noticed his hand, and looked back at the mirror, and it clicked into place.

"Tony..."

"Mm."

Steve sighed. He grabbed the medical gear and headed over to Tony, sitting down on the edge of the bed next to him.

"Your hand - let me help you with that," he said tentatively. Tony looked at him warily and set the soup down on the bedside table next to him, not intending to finish it, even after only a few mouthfuls. He just didn't feel like it at the moment.

Steve noticed there were drops of blood on the cream-coloured rug at his feet. Gracious, where _wasn't_ there blood?

"What did you do, Tony?" Steve said frowningly, as he pulled out a cleansing wipe and reached for Tony's hand. Tony pulled back, but then looked at Steve, who was wearing his 'concerned yet stern face' again, and he held his hand out to him that was still shaking ever so slightly. He sighed. His expression was impassive as he looked forward, seeing nothing.

Steve tended to the cuts on Tony's hand, trying to be careful, as every time he applied even the smallest amount of pressure, Tony's fingers would move slightly.

"Tony, I understand if you don't wanna talk about it. I also understand if you want to be alone, but you can't do - this-" he gestured to Tony's injured hand, as he wrapped a bandage around it. "You're only going to make it _worse_. I'll send for Bruce later to check on you, but for now I'm gonna stay here for a while - no buts, Tony," as he opened his mouth to protest.

"I'm only gonna be watching TV. I'm sure you'd rather be doing your Pilates or Jitsu or something," Tony said mockingly.

Steve sighed. "Jujutsu," he corrected and Tony rolled his eyes. "Tony, I don't care what you do, watch TV - anything.

"I know you might just see me as a teammate, or a soldier or something-" Tony frowned, "-but I'm also your _friend_ , and I'm staying here because I want to."

Well, _damn_. Steve was bossy when he wanted to be.

"Hand me the remote then," Tony said. Was there really any point in arguing?

Steve handed him the TV remote and bit his lip nervously. "Tony, I also wanted to say I'm sorry. I shouldn't have assumed what I did - that was wrong."

Tony nodded at him in acknowledgement of his apology.

Though had Steve really been that far from the truth? Going to a bar? Getting laid?

_No._

He would _not_ think about that right now.

Tony swallowed thickly, and with the remote he switched the TV on, crossing his legs as he lay on his bed and resting his head against the headboard. He flicked through the channels, finally finding a semi-decent drama, and Steve took up the armchair that was next to him, by the window. Tony would see the Captain glancing at him from the corner of his eye from time to time, but he wouldn't talk to him, he barely even looked at him. Best to avoid eye contact. Then maybe no one would what horrors laid behind  
his eyes.

Tony slammed down the TV remote on the soft bed angrily and he clenched his jaw. Why couldn't he just concentrate on the damn TV drama? It wasn't actually that bad of a show. He slid off the duvet suddenly, standing up, but the world suddenly swayed around him and Steve leapt to his side.

"You OK?" He said worriedly, holding out his hand if he needed to lean on something. Tony put a hand back on the bed.

"Yea, fine…" Tony said breathlessly, getting a hold of himself as he walked slowly past Steve and to the bathroom, still limping slightly and holding onto his heavy head. He entered the bathroom and locked the door behind him.

Steve looked around after him, frowning. So if he was in there a while…and Tony _had_ invited Steve into his room, then maybe it was _okay_ to do a little snooping…He only wanted to help, he reasoned to himself. He didn't want to intrude in Tony's privacy too much though.

He first went over to the bin and saw the pile of clothes that were in there. He carefully picked up one item pinched between two fingers, and…Ah. Right. That was why they're in the bin.

The white t-shirt he held was so covered in dried blood and dark grey granite smudges that there was hardly any white left. Steve guiltily dropped it back in the bin, assuming the other clothes would be the same, and went over to stand by the full-lengthwindows.  
No, he didn't think he wanted to snoop any more. He again felt a wave of pity for Tony at not trusting anyone enough to tell them of what happened to him – and it was pretty obvious that he had been attacked. Assaulted. He had _suffered_.

Steve didn't realise he was clenching his fists by his side and struggled to relax them, taking in a deep breath. Just then, the bathroom door opened and he turned around, as Tony peeked his head out.

"Er, Cap, could you give me some privacy?" Tony said.

"Oh, er-" Steve stuttered. "Why? Are you-"

"Yea, I'm fine. Just, get out, please. OK, imagine me saying that _nicely_."

Steve looked at him and sighed, putting his hands up.

"Ok, ok. I'll go and get something to eat. If you need anything, just let me know," he said, raising his eyebrows, and Tony quickly nodded. Steve then left the room, shutting the door behind him.

Tony breathed a sigh of relief as the door shut and locked automatically, thanks to Jarvis. He rested his head on the door frame, then grimaced as he went over to his wardrobe to get some clean underwear.

\-----------------

Natasha was leaning forward on the kitchen counter, on her laptop, while Bruce was sitting opposite her running a hand through his hair. Steve was stir-frying some vegetables and chicken on the nearby stove.

"I should go and see him," Bruce said. "We shouldn't leave him alone like this."

"Yea, I know," Steve said, sighing. "To be honest, I'm pretty worried about him-"

Just then the lights flickered and a large holographic screen appeared, covering the windows.

"Not again…" Bruce said frustratingly. This sort of thing was _not_ good for his temperament…

Natasha got straight to work on her laptop, decrypting the signal. Steve walked up to the screen to see a familiar woman's face.

"What do you want? Tony isn't here," Steve said angrily.

"Oh, don't worry, I sent Tony a little message…He knows I'm here," she said in her honey voice.

"What do you mean?" Bruce asked worriedly, getting up from his chair.

"I told him what would happen if he didn't cooperate. We got the money, but..."

"He sent you the money?" Natasha asked.

"Of course he did. But that's not enough. So, we're just filling up our side of the bargain, until he gives us what we want. I'm pretty sure this little... _treat_ will be incentive enough."

"No, Jarvis, don't reboot yet!" Natasha whispered to her screen, and Steve looked back at her confused, and backed his way over to her.

"Tony is trying to get Jarvis to reboot again," she hissed. "But I only need a few more minutes to pin down their location…"

"Ok," he nodded. "So, keep them talking?"

"Only for a little while," She said.

"What about Tony?" He said worriedly. If Tony wanted to get rid of them, then he totally agreed.

But he also wanted to find these people.

"What are you two girls gossiping about?" The woman on the screen said.

Natasha glared at her from behind her computer screen. Steve spoke first.

"You need to stop threatening Mr Stark," Steve warned.

"Oh, I will…eventually," she said. "But first I wanted show you something. Something nice I prepared just for you…Max, make sure Tony sees the video as well, would you?" She turned her head to speak, and she looked back at them again, then she abruptly disappeared from the screen, only to reappear again, but this time in a different location. The room she was now in was dark, and had a blue-tinted light, and she held up the camcorder in front of her.

"This is update to File: T. Stark. Say hi, Tony."

She tilted the camcorder to show Tony writhing on the ground beside her, trying to crawl away. His shirt was ripped and covered in blood, and he was moaning in pain.

Bruce caught his breath in his throat and looked back towards the others. Steve kept his eyes on the screen, taking steady breaths.

"The video she was talking about…What happened to Tony…" Steve figured, and Natasha nodded, turning her attention back to her laptop. _Hurry up!_ she willed it. She didn't like where this video was going.

The woman holding the camcorder on the screen bent down towards Tony's face, which was covered in blood. His eyes were dark as he looked up to her venomously, but then his eyes swivelled to the sidein fear as someone fidgeted with his trousers in the background.

"You have the nicest body, Mr Stark…" The man said in the background, and the camcorder switched to his gleaming face.

"Oh, I disagree. I just love his eyes," the woman replied, and the man laughed.

Natasha looked warily up at the screen, and then to the other two to see their reactions. They both looked fit to burst.

"Guys…"

She was interrupted by a loud gasp and looked up anxiously to the screen. It was Tony. Being _raped_.

With a sharp intake of breath, she looked shocked at the screen, her eyes starting to sting, and she blinked quickly. Yes, she had thought this might have been what happened. But it still didn't prepare her for it.

Steve couldn't take his eyes off the screen, no matter how much he wanted to. He felt _sick._ He was balling his fists so tightly Natasha swore that his palms would start to bleed.

Bruce staggered, and put a trembling hand to his chest, feeling his thudding, beating heart.

"I have to…go," he said nervously, backing away and heading towards the elevator. "Tell Tony I- I'm sorry. Help him," he rasped with one last look of plea to Natasha, as he fell down on his knees in the elevator, his eyes burning bright green, and Nat nodded at him understandingly. The elevator doors closed. She hoped that he could hold it in, for now.

"I own you, _Stark_ …"

"God," Steve whispered in shock. He was shaking, watching the malicious man mercilessly thrusting himself into Tony as he gasped in agony. "I'm gonna kill him."

"Steve," she warned. "Not now."

The scan on her laptop was finally complete.

"Ok, Jarvis, save the location, and reboot," she ordered. She was steadily breathing through her flaring nostrils as she heard Tony cry out again from the screen, and forced herself to look up as Tony's head was knocked down again roughly on the ground and his eyes lolled.

"Getting a bit excited, are we Stark?" The man identified as Max said, and the camera zoomed in on a wet patch on the floor next to Tony's pants. There were liquids rolling off of his thighs, from small amounts blood to sweat and the other substance coming from the man. The woman cackled.

Steve felt his stomach flip and his diaphram contract, as if he was caving in on itself. His heart was beating fast as adrenaline pumped through his veins.

The screen flashed, and the woman's face appeared again, as it did before.

" _T-Tony_ …"

The signal was faltering. Natasha had had enough. She turned around and went to head out to find Tony, knowing that Jarvis was nearly back online and the video would soon be over, but there was no need. The elevator doors opened and Tony came stumbling out.

"J-Jarvis," he panted, his eyes wide.

"Stark! W-w-w-what a surprise," she said, her voice stuttering as she began to lose signal, but she still sounded sickly honey-like. "If you don't g-gggggggggget what I want, this video goes out to the whole world. And I want I-I-I-Iron Maaaaaaaaaaa-"suddenly the screen froze on her face, and then it disappeared, leaving them all looking out the window to the clouds.

The only sound was Tony's laboured breathing. Natasha reached out towards him but he just shook his head, unable to speak, and staggered back into the elevator. He took one last look at Steve who glanced back at him with an unreadable expression before he looked away in horrid shame and collapsed to the metal floor of the elevator, his body suddenly rigid.

"Tony-" Natasha started, walking forwards, but she stopped as she caught one last glimpse of his stunned expression, and the elevator doors shut.

"Damn," Natasha cursed, looking around. She hoped the elevator the Bruce had used to get to his hulk-proof room was still… in use. She looked over at Steve as she headed across the room.

He suddenly landed a fist on the sofa and breathed out heavily. He then walked over to the wooden panelled wall and punched it with a large _crack_ -

"Argh!" He yelled in frustration, his knuckles stinging.

"While you're busy denting Tony's furniture," Natasha chided him, narrowing her eyes. "I'm going to see if he's alright." And with that she walked in the elevator with her arms crossed, seemingly holding in her emotions, though how she did Steve would never know. He looked at her, frowning, as the doors shut and he was alone again, breathing heavily and _seething_ from rage.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feels.   
> Comments appreciated. Constructive criticism also welcome. :)

_Earlier._

Tony was in his room watching the TV, actually nearly falling asleep, when the blue tinted screen flashed up in front of him, and that woman's face filled the whole room, and Tony crawled backwards trying to get away but only hit the back of his head off the headboard.

 _Dammit._ Not _again!_

"Hi, Mr Stark," that honey voice said again.

"I have a little proposal for you," she said, and Tony glared at her, while his breathing increased. "I'm gonna send you a location, just a short while away north of New York, , and you're go there alone and bring us your fully-functioning Iron Man suit. A deal is a deal. We'll give you the video. Then you'll never hear from us again."

Part of him considered it. But his bitter, venomous glare at the screen just gave away how little he was willing to cooperate with her and it angered the woman and her gaze hardened.

"Fine. Have it your way. But I urge you to reconsider, Stark," she said. "To give you some incentive, maybe you would like to be reminded of what you have to lose."

And then the screen cut to the video. Of Tony on that night. With the mad man. And the crazy woman laughing.

Tony was suddenly having trouble breathing.

He fell out of bed and got Jarvis up on the screen, frantically running diagnostics. Jarvis was still trying to hack the attackers and find their location, but their system was trying to stop it. Also, if Jarvis rebooted and the video stopped, then he might not find the location at all.

Tony sat there on the floor, hearing sounds coming from his own throat on the screen. He couldn't even bare himself to look.

Jarvis isn't working properly. He's not rebooting.

But he really wants to find this people.

He looked to the screen, and was nearly sick.

_Nope, nope, nope._

Someone else must be playing with Jarvis. Probably Natasha.

He got up and dizzily made his way out of his room and stumbled to the elevator.

Who else was seeing this?

Not them. Not his friends.

But the video was all over the tower. Even in the elevator, he was forced to listen to those sounds, the noises, the screams, the laughing, the crying.

And the elevator door opened. And it felt like he had been stabbed in the chest.

They had seen all of it.

He felt so…humiliated. Embarrassed. Hurt. Guilty.

What could he do?

He couldn't read Steve's face. He just looked shocked.

Tony went back in the elevator, seeing Tasha come after him, but no. Couldn't deal with that right now.

He just fell on his knees in the elevator, his eyes wide, when Jarvis came back.

"Mr Stark, Dr Banner is currently in the hulk-proof lab. I would suggest you do not go down there for a while," Jarvis advised.

Tony groaned, as he tried to stand up.

"Do you…require assistance, sir?" Jarvis asked tentatively.

"Ha, Jarvis, buddy," Tony laughed weakly, smiling at the top of the bright metal elevator. "You've always been there for me. You're all I need."

The elevator door opened.

And the cool breeze of air hit his face and he smiled, as the golden light of the sun beamed on him as it bent around the skyscrapers around him, and finally he was able to breathe.

He walked limply out onto the roof of his tower, with the dark grey half walls all the way around, and the air was cool and refreshing. He could breathe out here.

Tony wanted to make sure he could leave at any moment, that he was ready for anything at any moment, so to test his Mark 34, he lifted his good arm in the air and flipped his hand out, waiting for the suit to come get him.

It should be here soon.

Shouldn't it-?

_Ow._

Yep, that had probably broken a window or two on the way up here…

The red and gold metallic gauntlet of his suit clipped onto his forearm and automatically wrapped around his arm, clicking into place. Oh, that felt good. To have power, once again. To be safe. To not be vulnerable anymore. He flexed his hands. Maybe he should try something, just to test it out. It had to work when he went to find these people - whenever the location was done.

"Ok, Jarvis, lets to a test run," he said, as the blue light on his suit beeped showing Jarvis was listening.

He then thought of something he had in his pocket. He pulled the piece of paper with the note from 'Miss Perrimore' and tossed it in front of him.

"Agh!" He yelled as he lifted up his metallic arm and shot with all his power. He breathed heavily as the note was shattered into a thousand pieces and began floating down like feathers. He dropped his head. He was tired of this. He wanted it over. He wanted to stop feeling like this. He may have had the most powerful suit of armour in the world, but that couldn't stop his emotions. His memories, his torments, his heart beating quickly and feeling small in his chest, his pounding head, and the feeling of being so _powerless_ to stop it all.

"Tony?"

He spun around and held up his metallic arm, his eyes blazing, his gauntlet ready to blast, to see Steve approaching him, his blond hair flicking in the wind, as he slowly put his hands up.

* * *

Gotta get yourself together. Tony needs you.

He…he…

Ok. In the elevator.

"Jarvis, where is he," he said, his voice shaking and coming out a little aggressive. He breathed. "Where's Tony?"

"He is on the roof, Captain," Jarvis replied.

"What? What's he doing there?" Steve said, getting worried. "Call Natasha, Jarvis."

Jarvis did as he said, and a small screen came up with Natasha's face looking up to the camera.

"Steve – I haven't got to him yet, but I'm on my way-"

"Hey, Nat, it's ok - I'm on my way to Tony now. Don't worry, I'm not angry anymore, we can deal with them later…"

"Alright, good. I'm gonna go to his lab then and check up with Jarvis on the location. Just try not to…overwhelm him, Steve," she advised carefully.

"Oh – er, yea, of course," he frowned at her.

"I'm worried he's gonna do something _stupid_ ," she said darkly, as she walked into Tony's lab, and she stopped as she stepped on something. "There's some broken glass in here – I think he's taking his suit." She looked around the floor, then looked up to the camera nervously.

"Don't worry," the Captain reassured her. "I'm on it. I won't let him go anywhere. You just find Bruce; Tony might need him." Natasha nodded solemnly, and the screen went off.

* * *

"Tony, it's ok, it's just me," he was saying a few minutes later, looking worriedly at Tony's panicked stance. Tony swallowed and lowered his arm, and sighed heavily as he bowed his head and closed his eyes painfully, and walked over to the balcony and rested his arms on the railing. Steve cautiously walked up to him. Tony was clenching his fists and his face contorted in pain, looking thunderous, but at the same time _tired._

Steve opened his mouth, but he couldn't find anything to say, so he just leant his arms over the balcony rail and looked out to the vast city of New York.

"Tony? Why are you up here?" Steve asked, looking at him worriedly.

"I…Um," Tony rubbed his face, not looking at him, and sighed. "I dunno, sometimes I come up here just to be away from everyone for a while, where I can breathe…I, er, heard about Bruce," he said, looking to side of him to Steve, to be met with concerned sky blue eyes as he took in a deep breath. "He's in his hulk lab?"

"Oh – er, yea he is - I think he's alright though. I don't think he damaged anything..." _No, but_ he _did_. "He said he was sorry," he explained, furrowing his eyebrows at Tony, but he just looked down at his hands.

"Did he see… all of it?" Tony asked, though it pained him.

"He… saw enough."

"I tried to…to stop them. From hacking, again," Tony said, frowning. "But it wasn't working, it's the like systems were jammed, they wouldn't respond; it was like they were broken down."

 _Like Tony is?_ Steve thought.

"Tony? Did they threaten you?" Steve asked, and Tony frowned. "They said they sent you a message before they played the video..."

"Oh, well, they sent me a location – literally in the middle of _nowhere_ \- where they want me to meet them to give them my suit. Not gonna happen, don't worry." Steve nodded. "I just hope Jarvis is still able to look for the location of their base. Though I doubt it," Tony said bitterly, and Steve frowned. Oh.

So, Tony didn't yet know that they had found the location of the source. Steve thought it would probably be better if Tony didn't know, actually. He'd only go after them, lost in rage, while he was still healing, and still in pain.

"I know I lied. About what happened," Tony said, sighing deeply. "And I'm sorry."

"That's…OK," Steve said. He didn't like it when his teammates, and his _friends_ , lied to him, but he wouldn't make Tony feel any worse than he did by giving him a lecture. He wanted Tony to know that he could trust him, he could confide in him. Though to be honest, he wasn't sure what he _would_ have done if Tony had told him, since he didn't really know what to do now.

"But you don't have to lie anymore, Tony," Steve tried to reassure him. "We know now."

Tony nodded his head, but it was almost robotically, his expression one of anguish.

"I, um…" Tony started. "I didn't go there to…to hook up with anyone."

Steve opened his mouth to argue-

"No – just, just hear me out," Tony said levelly, and Steve clenched his jaw. But if Tony said anything else like that about himself, he would intervene. He _can't_ blame himself for this. He did _not_ have to justify what happened.

"I honestly just wanted a boys' night out with Rhodey. I didn't drink that much. Really. Even when she-" Tony stopped. "When that woman, eyed me at the bar, I wasn't interested." Tony wanted Steve to believe him.

"So they were there in the bar with you?" Steve asked, confused.

"Uh, yea," Tony scratched the back of his head. "Well, the woman was anyway. I think she and er – the man- followed me. I only remember getting knocked out on my head from behind." He motioned to the back of his head, and Steve frowned.

"What about your ride? Didn't you call Happy before you left?" He enquired.

"Well, I was gonna go back with Rhodes, but he left - 'cause of his sister - and I thought I might as well get a taxi back. I thought-" Tony gestured with his hands. "I haven't got a taxi in ages, so why not, y'know?"

Tony looked down again, and nodded his head ruefully at his own naivety, and rubbed his mouth with his hands like he did when he was nervous, or stressed about something.

"I tried to fight," he said quietly. "I really did, Steve, but my – my head was pounding, and I-God, I know, I should have tried harder, I'm sorry Steve-" Tony looked horribly pained, and he squeezed his eyes.

"Hey, Tony? Listen to me - this is _not_ your fault," he said seriously to him, and he put an affirming hand on the man's shoulder. "Nobody blames you, OK?"

Steve looked worriedly at him, and slowly put his hand down. Tony bit his nails.

"They had – erm, my phone, and they – they threatened her, they threatened Pepper," Tony said, his breath quickening as he got more panicked. "They had her number, and they said they would contact her, convince her to come over here or something and– we have to check she's ok." Tony looked panicked. "We have to call her – now – we need to make sure that she stays in London-"

"Ok, ok, we'll do that, don't worry," Steve said, and Tony took in a deep breath, nodding. "Are you sure you don't want to tell her? She might want to come back…"

"No. Definitely not," Tony said resolutely. "She needs to stay far away from here. They could use her against me. Um-um." He shook his head.

"Ok, alright…" Steve said, as Tony bit his lip and focused on his breathing.

All Steve could hear was Tony's steady breathing, in and out, and the low whistle of the wind, and the quiet buzz of traffic from all the way down.

"Tony – maybe you should come down now. Get some rest, get some sleep," Steve suggested, slowly getting desperate.

"No," he said. "I've had enough rest. And I can't – can't get any sleep."

"Well, at least let me get you some food-"

"Nope, not hungry."

"Tony, you have to let us help you," Steve pleaded with him. "You have to help yourself by letting us help _you_. Please."

Tony just kept shaking his head, and he put his head in his hands.

"Tony – you should go to a doctor – get some medication, a proper examination-!"

"No," Tony practically growled at him. "No one else knows about this, OK? I don't want _anyone_ else knowing, not Fury, not Pepper, no one except us here at the Tower. Once I deal with these people, then it will just be us, and then we can forget all about it."

"I don't think so, Tony."

Tony scowled at him.

"Firstly, you're not going to 'deal with them' by yourself!" Steve implored. "We're gonna go with you. Every step of the way."

Tony sneaked a glance at his serious face, frowning.

"And nobody's gonna forget about this after it's over-" Tony sighed and looked away. "Tony, I just watched-"

Tony closed his eyes and looked down, and Steve sighed. "My point is, we're not gonna leave after this is over, OK?" He said importantly. "We're all still going to be here, helping you through this."

Tony put his red metallic hand over his bruised face so Steve couldn't see it, and Steve tried to lift the hand away from his face gently.

"Tony, come on-"

Tony, however, leaned away from him, and looked anxious as he held up his metallic hand, and looked at Steve.

"Um, Steve – I'm not erm…" Tony didn't quite know how to say this. "I just wanted you to, er - to let you know that I - am not gay."

"Oh - no, Tony, I'm not either!" He said back, shocked, and Tony looked at him with anxious eyes. "But – you're still healing Tony, and I'm just trying to help you-"

"I mean, that's not why it happened-"

"And – what?"

Tony licked his lips slightly. His eyes were stinging and his eyebrows were hitched together worriedly. "Well – erm – I don't want you to think that I- erm…" His mouth was open, but he couldn't somehow say the words. "That I am – be-because of it, or that I _wanted_ it -"

"Oh, Tony – no," Steve was even more shocked, and to be honest _appalled_. "That's not what _anyone_ thought – OK?"

Tony nodded. "Ok. Just making sure you knew that," He shrugged.

Steve breathed in. _Gonna kill them_. Breathe out. He hated what they had done to him. How they had made him so nervous that he felt he had to justify himself to his own friends.

Tony just desperately didn't want his friends, or colleagues, to think any less of him, or to change their opinion of him, to think he was weak.

But it had convinced Steve, looking at Tony's hurt and bruised face, that he was still human, so much more human than the rest of them, and now he needed help. Steve would start by getting Tony to talk about it.

"Tony?"

"Mm."

"That – erm – video," Steve approached the subject carefully, like Natasha had said, and as he thought, Tony shifted uncomfortably and wrinkled his nose. "It was only on for a few minutes... How long were you held captive by them?"

Tony looked at him, frowned slightly, and turned back to look towards the skyline sunset.

"Well, it was, er, nine thirty-one when I woke up in some dark room; I don't know where it was. It was a few hours, I think," he said quietly, and took a deep breath, but then looked at Steve, who briefly closed his eyes. "I mean - that's how long I was there for - not how long _that_ went on for-" Tony desperately tried to reassure him.

"Yea, I know; don't worry," Steve said, looking into Tony's eyes, reassuring him.

"God, I don't even know, y'know?" Steve looked at him forlornly. "I mean, I kept waking up, in and out of consciousness, and eventually I woke up in the alley outside where they had _dumped_ me, before they decided that one of their lackeys would take me home, so I wouldn't _die_ in the street."

Tony sighed and they were both quiet for a moment, and Tony put a hand on his ribs and closed his eyes at the pain. Would it ever go away?

"Tony, I think you should come back down now," Steve said, and Tony looked at him, his eyes so _tired._

"You can't tell anyone…" Tony swallowed, and was starting to look pale. "Don't…"

He was breathing heavily and looked up as he collapsed to his knees and leaned his side against the balcony wall.

"Hey, hey, Tony? Tony?" Steve knelt down to him, and held his head up in his hands. He was breathing rapidly, and his eyes looked wide and panicked.

"Tony, it's OK, you're safe up here, and you're safe with me, OK?"

Tony just shook his head, his lip trembling.

"It's ok, it's ok," Steve assured him, as he put his arm around him, and Tony couldn't hold it in anymore and he blubbed into Steve's shoulder, his breathing coming in gasps. He moaned as he held onto his ribs and Steve rubbed his back. "It's ok, shh…"

"This - is - pathetic," Tony rasped out, shaking his head across his shoulder.

"Tony," Steve said sternly, leaning back to look at him while holding onto either side of Tony's head, but Tony looked down.

"No, really, i- it is," Tony laughed bitterly, holding his hands up. "Ha - I am!"

"No, you're not." Steve looked firmly at Tony and pulled him close to him again, and Tony shut his eyes.

"You're hugging me," Tony mumbled into his shoulder. He frowned. Was this actually happening?

Steve sighed. "Yes, I am. We should do it more often," he said with a smile. Tony snorted, and patted Steve's shoulder as he leaned back and looked at him again.

"Steve, I - I appreciate what you're doing, so just let me explain–" he paused, his heart beating fast again as he tried to get it out, through his throat felt lodged. "I wanted to fight, I did, but my _head_ – I mean, I was seeing double, and the wind was knocked out of me-" he motioned to his stomach, and Steve frowned at him. "Then he – he pinned me down and I couldn't do anything." He breathed. "God, Steve, I felt so - _powerless._ "

Steve found his own eyes watering.

"I know," he rubbed the back of his head again gently. "But Tony, you gotta stop this," Steve pleaded with him. "Listen, _they_ took advantage of you and _hurt_ you so that you wouldn't stand a chance. No one would have."

"You would've," Tony countered, and Steve just opened his mouth. "You're an Avenger – and so am I, for god's sake! And – and I just don't want you to be disappointed in me," he said in a small voice.

"What – me?" Steve shook his head at him. "Oh, Tony, I'm not disappointed in you, no way! You didn't give in to those people, and I'm proud of you for that."

"I gave them the money."

"I know. But not the suits, right?"

"I'm not stupid, Steve. Of course I'm not gonna give them any suits. I'm not gonna give them anything else. And I do _plan_ to get my money back."

"Ok, well, good. I'm glad."

Tony sniffed and looked down, his chest rising as he breathed in deeply.

"Hey, Tony? You're gonna be alright - Tony?" Steve looked down at Tony's face, as his eyes drooped, and his arm falling down to his lap. "No, Tony, stay with me!"

"Wha- oh, mm,'m just t-tired…" he mumbled, then he took a hold on the hem of Steve's t-shirt weakly. "Will you…st-stay?"

He looked tired, and hurt, but most of all, scared when he looked up at him, and Steve rubbed the back of his neck. "O-of course I will," Steve said. He was still getting used to Tony's sudden and extreme vulnerability, and he was reminded that at the end of the day, Tony was only human, with no special healing or super strength abilities, with only his over-thinking brain for comfort, and Steve was just glad that he was now maybe willing to accept the help he needed. He had been forced. And that should _never_ have happened to one of his teammates. To someone he saw as a _friend_.

Tony smiled weakly but then his eyes closed, and slowly his body went limp as he collapsed into Steve's chest. Steve tightened his grip around his back as he put another arm underneath his knees and carefully lifted him up, and when he turned around he heard the door open and Natasha's bright red hair came out, along with a dishevelled looking Bruce behind her, as Steve came towards them, huffing, with Tony in his arms.

"He's ok, he's ok," he reassured them. "He's just tired. I'm gonna take him to the common room. We can keep a better eye on him there, and he'll feel more comfortable."

Bruce looked at Natasha, who looked worriedly at Tony as she put a hand on his head and then stepped aside, looking at Steve, as Bruce held the door open. Steve nodded to them and descended the steps down to the elevator, holding Tony close to him, trying to make sure he wasn't pressing down on his bandage, and he kept Tony's head against his upper arm to avoid it from scraping against the wall.

About five minutes later Steve was laying him down gently on the sofa. Bruce had gone to get some medication and supplies, Steve went to get a blanket and pillow to tuck him in, while Natasha stayed with him and held his cold hand in both of her own, resting on his blanket.

"Vyzdoravlivay skoreye, dorogoy moy," she said in her native tongue, and Steve looked up as she bent down to kiss his forehead.

_Get well soon, my dear._

 


	8. Chapter 8

Steve put another pillow carefully underneath Tony's head.

Tony leaned into the sofa and Steve pulled the blanket and tucked it around him so that it was up to his chin.

He got a glass of water and put it on the table next to Tony. He fiddled with the blanket again.

"Steve," came a soft voice to the side of him.

He looked up as Natasha gently pulled on his arm. He nodded at her, with a last sullen look at Tony sleeping, and she pulled him up and took him to the kitchen where Bruce was on the computer.

"Should we tell Fury?" Cap asked.

"Tony won't like it," Natasha said.

"I know – but how else are we gonna-"

"I can get us a quinjet." Steve raised her eyebrow at her. "Clint can get us a quinjet," she corrected. "There are weapons here." She went around the counter to look at the laptop next to Bruce. "I've been trying to hack into their database, at this warehouse they're in, but they have strong fire walls, and they may be armed. We won't know what we're getting into until we get there."

"Ok," Steve nodded. "Get Clint on the phone." She nodded and got her phone out. "Bruce, you should get some rest for the night - we all should-" he looked at Natasha. "We're gonna head out tomorrow, if you're alright to stay here and look after Tony?"

"What, you're not gonna tell him we're going? That he shouldn't come with us?" Natasha said.

"It's for the best. He can't go in his condition."

"Yea, but Tony's stubborn, he's not gonna like it…" Bruce said.

"Let's just see how he is when he wakes up," Natasha said, and she went off as she started talking into her phone.

"Clint, this is serious," Natasha was saying quietly through her phone.

"Fury's gonna find out, and he's gonna be mad that we went out on a mission of our own-" Barton replied.

"I know that, I'll deal with that when it comes to it, OK?" she said. "This is about Tony, Clint, it's important. We need that quinjet. You don't have to come if you don't want to. If all goes to plan, we should be finished by the end of the day, we're not going far…"

"Hey, no, I'm definitely coming. And what exactly happened with Stark? You said he was injured." He sighed on the other end of the phone. "What did he get himself into this time?"

"No – Clint - it's not like that. I can't tell you everything right now, so you'll just have to trust me on this one. Just get here first thing tomorrow morning, OK? Tony shouldn't be coming, but if he knows we're going, he'll want in on it too."

"Make it lunch time."

Natasha let out a quiet scowl. "Fine. Just don't be late. And don't tell anyone. And bring your bow."

"Never leave without it," he said, and Natasha could practically hear his smile, and she ended the call.

\--

The next morning, the others were awake before Tony, who was turning over uneasily in his sleep and moaning.  
"Tony?" Steve said tentatively and went over to him. He was sweating and his eyes were scrunched up in pain as he held on to his blanket desperately.

"No – no-"

Steve began to shake his shoulder. "Tony-"

He felt arms around him and flashed awake, fresh out of his nightmare, and he thrashed with his arms, obviously in distress, but Steve held onto him.

"Tony, calm down, it's me-"

Tony was terrified out of his wits.

_Please let go._

"Tony, you had a nightmare," Steve swallowed, loosening his hold on Tony and looking worriedly at him. It wasn't exactly much of a mystery what he must have been dreaming about. "You're at home, you're in the tower, and you're safe."

Tony looked up to Steve in terror and struggled with his arms again, so that Steve let go of him slowly. Tony swallowed and looked around. There was no one else there, and it was light outside the full-length windows. He looked at himself, he didn't remember getting on the sofa, and he had a blanket on him.

Tony was breathing quickly and his bottom lip trembled. He looked in panic at Steve, his breathing fast and uneven as he looked around to gather his bearings. He licked his lips and breathed through his mouth, sitting up slowly.

"Wha – how did I g-get here, Steve?" His voice was a bit hoarse.

"Well, you sort of fainted, last night on the roof," Steve frowned, "So I brought you down here to sleep."

Now it was coming back to him. He remembered...feeling pretty faint last night - on the roof? With Steve... Ah, yes, they…talked. And Tony cried, _for god's sake_.

Great.

"How do you feel?" Steve asked him sincerely.

"I'm…fine." Tony looked uneasily at Steve's concerned blue eyes.

Steve knew it was a lie. How could it not be?

"Do you want some water?" He gestured to the glass on the table. "Some food?"

Tony shook his head. Steve sighed, and then Bruce and Natasha came in from the elevator and headed towards them.

"Tony, you're up," Bruce said, as Steve got up and grimaced at him as he went to talk to Natasha, and Bruce came and sat by Tony, who sat up from the sofa and rubbed his head, giving his friend a light-hearted smile.

Bruce shined a torch in his eyes.

"Jarvis, what are his vitals like?" Bruce said, as he felt Tony's forehead, and Tony tried to move his head away, annoyed.

"Uh-get off-"

"Mr. Starks' temperature, blood pressure and heart rate are normal, Dr Banner."

"I'm _fine_."

Widow then came over and gave Tony a warm, nice smelling cup of coffee.

"Here, some coffee," Natasha said, with a small smile, and he took it gratefully, and looked at her. She was slightly wide-eyed, obviously worried, and probably more shocked about what happened than she was letting on.

Sipping his coffee, Tony looked up to see Bruce looking at him.

"What?"

"Nothing," Bruce shrugged innocently.

"Mm," He sipped his coffee, and avoided eye contact with them again, looking at his blanket.

A short while later, when Tony had had a miniscule amount of toast, coffee and medication, Bruce came over to him with a large first aid kit as he stood up by the couch. Steve and Natasha were talking quietly just on the other side of the room in the kitchen.

"Tony," Bruce said, and Tony looked to him, "I need to replace some of the bandages." Tony made a face. "Please, Tony."

Tony sighed in defeat, and tiredness.

"Ok," Bruce breathed, and got to work straight away, getting out the gauzes from the medical kit. He gingerly applied a small rectangular plaster experiencedly on the top right side of Tony's forehead, where he was sporting a sharp red cut. Tony clenched his jaw and flinched occasionally, but allowed it.

Bruce motioned with his head towards Tony's waist, and Tony rolled his eyes, but lifted up his top, and Bruce wrapped the bandages around Tony's broken rib as he held his shirt up and gritted his teeth. He looked around to the kitchen where Steve and Natasha were and saw Steve looking at him, grimacing, and Tony just looked away. He didn't need that right now.

Steve saw the purple bruises all over Tony's side where Bruise was bandaging it to stop further damage and to protect it, but there was a darker bruise just above Tony's waistline on his hip, that must have gone further beneath his trousers. He saw the pain in Tony's face when he turned to look at him and he just didn't know what to _do_. He just knew he needed Tony _safe_ , and he needed their _help_ to get better.

Tony was checking on Jarvis on his tablet, and Steve looked uneasily at Bruce.

"The – the location – Jar found it!" Tony cried out, and looked to the rest of them. "We have to go."

"Tony, no-"

"Fine. _I'll_ go."

"NO!" Steve shouted, and Tony looked at him in surprise, and Steve sighed and came over to him. "You can't go on a dangerous mission in your condition, Tony," he said, trying to keep his calm.

"In what condition, _Steve_?" Tony snarled back. "Bruce patched me up – I'm on meds – I'm fine, _really_ \- and I'm _going_ – with my suit." And just as he said it, his newest Mark strode into the room, red and gold and metallic, and stood still, waiting for Tony.

"See? It's all ready and waiting." He walked over to it and opened the helmet to have a look inside. "OK, I might need to just run it through some, er, checks, make sure everything's working, y'know – then I'll be good to go."

Steve looked angrily to Natasha. She looked back levelly at him and shrugged.

Bruce came up to Tony and spoke quietly.

"You know, Tony, you still need to get checked out at a hospital – or a doctor's surgery, something-"

"No - Bruce, look - I - I can't do that now," He replied frankly.

"Tony, this is serious. Really serious. Jarvis can't do everything for you – and neither can I! Please, no one has to know – it – it can just be you, or I'll go with you-"

"Ok, ok, I get it, calm down." He breathed. "I just can't think about anything else right now. I have to do this. Then maybe, after this is over, I'll go to a doctor," He looked at him, then shuffled on his feet to round the back of his suit and he winced in pain for a second.

"Is there something else, Tony? Are you alright?" Bruce asked, looking at him.

"You know what, no, I'm not!" he retorted, and the others turned their gaze to him. He sighed. "That's _why_ I have to do this _now_ , to get it over with, don't you understand?" He looked at Bruce tiredly, and Bruce swallowed, and looked up at him.

"Yea, I understand," He said in a small voice.

"Ok, then. Good."

Bruce sighed, and wandered over to the others, who were now turning their attention to a laptop where they were planning their journey and plan of attack.

"Y'know, Steve," Tony started, and Steve looked up at him from the counter where he was discussing tactics. "I think I'll be fine on my own – I mean, I can fly there," Tony said as he tweaked his suit.

Steve shook his head. "If you really intend on going – then we're coming with you."

"How are you gonna get there, then?"

"Barton's coming on a quinjet."

"You called Barton-?"

"I didn't tell him," Natasha interrupted, in an attempt at consolation. "Don't worry. He's just here to help us, Tony."

"Oh, well fantastic," Tony was getting wired up, and slightly panicked. "Why don't you just call everyone we know-" Yes, sarcasm really was his only defence. But he couldn't have anyone else knowing, _god_ he couldn't! "Wha – why – you can't, you can't tell them- _"_

"We haven't told anyone, Tony," Steve said softly. "We won't tell Barton what happened, not if you don't want us to. You just have to trust us. We go in there together, do what we need to do, and we all come out together. Ok?"

"Y'know, this isn't your fight, Steve," Tony replied resignedly, and looked to the rest of them. "Any of you."

"Yes, it is," Steve said right back, and Tony looked right at him.

"Fine," Tony said at last.

"Good. Everybody, suit up."

\--

"So, you gonna tell me what's going on?" Clint said, walking away from the quinjet landing site on the tower and inside, standing next to Natasha.

"No."

"But you said-"

"Tony got threatened by some gangsters, who have technological leverage on him, and possibly on a number of others too. We're going to retrieve it, find out who they work for, if anyone, and shut down their base – and leave."

"Ok…And these 'gangsters' – what are we doing with them? Taking them in? Questioning them? Or killing them?"

"It's Tony's call," she said simply. But she knew what it was going to be. Tony was holding onto his hope for retribution; she could see it in his eyes when he got into his suit and closed the face helmet to check everything was working. Steve shared a concerned glance with her as he loaded supplies, including the large first aid kit, into the quinjet that was on standby. Bruce found his purple hulk pants and held them up, grimacing at Natasha.

"So, the leverage, these files that they have-" Clint started, wanting clarification.

"Are the number one priority," Nat replied. He didn't need to know any more than that, and he got the sense that Nat, and everyone else, wouldn't tell him anyway.

She only hoped that this mission wouldn't make things worse.

Whether they succeeded or not.


	9. Chapter 9

They finally all get in the quinjet.

Clint handles the flying of the plane, while Tony is checking up on his suit, still running diagnostics and checking everything is working. Bruce is checking on Tony, sometimes talking to him, and constantly looking at his body diagnostics on his tablet, courtesy of Jarvis. Steve goes from quietly fuming, trying not to think about that video, to casting a concerned eye over to Tony every few seconds to check that he's ok. Natasha is looking at the large screen where Jarvis has hacked into their base, and she tries to figure out the best strategy to enter, asking a brooding Steve to help. Clint also comes to offer a hand, as the quinjet passes over the city high above the clouds, slowly coming away from suburbia, and into the country.

Until they arrive.

Tony is all business. His face is hard and cold, and behind his eyelids his eyes look glassy, but tight as if they are stinging. He flexes into his Iron Man suit, ready to go, with Jarvis fully on command and in touch with everyone's ear piece, but with a private one for Tony as well inside the suit of course, and with instructions to be ready to infiltrate their system as soon as they can get inside and disable their security system, then hack their files and steal everything, including the file Stark- that is the _most_ important – and everything else they have, to put it into a very secure file that only Jarvis can access, promptly for Tony to delete as soon as he gets back, and then evaluate the other files or videos, or leverage they have on people, and maybe – maybe – hand it over to Natasha to deal with, who will probably send it to Fury, but as long as it had nothing to do with Tony, he didn't really care. But he did not want _Fury_ knowing. Nobody else needed to know the details of what happened. It just wasn't necessary.

He went forwards, Cap coming up to his side, nodding to the others, in a motion to stick to the plan, and they went inside.

The mission was relatively simple. Bruce stayed in the Quinjet, on standby in case they needed him. They decided it probably wasn't the best call letting him in on it straight away. The other four went in. There was a big building out the front, and forest surrounding it, with an underground base. They were to take down anyone who got in their way.

And they did. Tony with more hostility than usual.

They split in half and went different ways. Tony had Jarvis carefully but quickly hack into their system, made easier when he found one of the computer rooms, as they took down the guards swiftly, and hacked into their computers with determination. The alarms had started ringing.

"We have to do this. Quickly," said Steve.

"Yea, I know," Tony frowned. "I still need to get to the main control room."

They made their way there after that, basically obliterating or disarming anyone in their path. Then they heard an explosion and the floor rattled.

"Guys? Barton? Widow? What's going on?" Steve said worriedly, as he and Tony hurried down the corridor, looking in each room, hearing shouting from guards.

"There - are – explosives," Widow coughed out from the earpiece.

"Are you alright?"

"Yea, we're fine," she croaked back wearily.

Bruce could hear everything that was going on in the quinjet. He was getting worried.

"Guys? Is this a code green?"

Steve and Tony looked at each other.

"I don't know, Bruce," Steve said honestly.

"I'll take that as a yes…" Bruce's voice faded out.

"Dammit," Tony curses. He and Steve descend a flight of stairs, going underground, and hear voices from inside the next room. Steve motions to Tony, and Tony blasts the door off its hinges and goes inside the room, blasters ready.

And it's them. They're in there. Hovering next to their computers.

Tony catches his breath and suddenly he can't breathe.

"The game's up," Steve says, gritting his teeth.

"Oh, really?" The man pipes up. Max. "What're you gonna do, Captain Rogers, arrest me?"

Steve pulls his shield from his back. Tony advances.

"Wait," the woman says, and he stops, as she smiles evilly. "I wouldn't take another step if I were you. Cause otherwise, this video…Is gonna go online."

Steve's eyes widen, and he looks at Tony, and back to them with an angry expression, but Tony stops him.

"Guys, I think another bomb's about to go off," Natasha says through the comms.

"Well, that would actually be good timing. Jarvis?"

"Nearly done, sir."

"Good."

Just as he was about to advance on them, something was blown up to the side of them and the wall crumbled, and they were all briefly knocked off their feet.

"Guys," Barton coughed through the comms. "Nat's – been – hit – we need help."

Tony took a moment to think about what he could do – then did the only think he could think of. He cursed and directed his suit arm through the hole in the war and commanded Jarvis to take his suit to Natasha.

"Tony, what are you doing?" Steve asked worriedly, as parts of Tony's suit came peeling off him, shooting in the other direction and disappearing to the other room where they could hear shouts of the enemy.

"Jarvis, get her out of here," Tony said through his comms, "Take out a few hostiles. And try and get Barton out too."

"Yes, sir."

Suddenly there were hands around him and he was in a combat fight. Steve looked like he was about to help but Tony pointed to the woman at the end of the room.

"Ste-" he squeaked out, but his windpipe was being crushed. Steve understood and tackled the Perrimore woman to the ground as she was about to get to the computer, to have another guy attack him from behind.

Tony elbows behind him, and he turns around to see Max who grunts, his heart nearly beating of his ears, and he comes back to reality when Jarvis' voice filters through. His AI informs him that he has overridden their system and has the files secure. And then he's knocked to the ground and is kicking at the man trapped above him, his messy hair obscuring his face as he snarls and punches Tony in the face. He suddenly leans down to bite into Tony's old bite wound in his shoulder and he cries out in pain.

"Arh!" Tony yelled, thrashing and fighting the crazed man, trying to get a good hit.

Out of nowhere, a red white and blue shield knocks Max off Tony, and he sits up, gasping in pain, and in a panic. He quickly glanced to the side of him to see no sign of Cap or the woman.

The man moaned but started to get up, as Tony marched over to him and angrily punched him. And _again._

The man rasped. "You gonna beat me like I beat you?" Max coughed out, blood running down his face.

"No." Tony kicks him to the floor and spits out blood, just as the Hulk smashes through the wall to the right side of him, and before Tony can register what he's doing, Max is screeching as the Hulk snatches him up and throws him across the room in the wreckage, and then growls and goes over to wack him about. Tony seems transfixed but then he can't watch much more of it and he turns around to make sure the others are ok. The woman looks beaten up, but she's holding a button in her hand.

Just when they think they have the upper hand, she threatens to blow them all up.

She starts the timer.

"Stop! You don't have to do this," Steve says angrily, putting his hands up in mock retreat.

She grimaces, looking at Max the other side of the room, his body broken and eyes open. Dead.

"What do I have to lose?" She says, sneering.

"Hulk! Bruce," Tony calls to him, and he looks over. "Get out of here."

The hulk huffs angrily.

Tony starts seeing double, his head pounding, his ribs hurting, and legs swaying. Steve grabs Tony's arm.

"We have to go now," he says. "Tony."

But the timer doesn't have long to go, and as the Hulk gives the blonde woman one last punch, Steve gets Tony to rest on his arms and starts running out, fearing they won't have enough time. Seemingly out of nowhere, Tony's suit gauntlet fixes onto his arm, and he snaps out of it as Steve drags him up the stairs, then he looks at Tony, as he points his suited arm a part of the wall and blows it up, and they cough as they stumble outside into the spot the quinjet landing down just ahead of them, just in time as the building blows up behind them, and they watch, parts of the building flying out, the orange flames consuming the night, hearing a few distant shouts from inside.

Steve helps Tony to the quinjet where Clint has taken control of it. He sits Tony down inside, but he's pretty much out of it, and is definitely going to need medical attention. The hulk's roars are then heard, blasting out of the burning building, as he thrashes into nothingness, roaring at the flames, perhaps in victory, perhaps in anger.

Natasha is holding her side and looks pale but goes over to Tony, who's struggling to stay awake, and he frowns when he sees her.

"I'm ok," she says, putting a hand on his head where he's lying down, but it doesn't do much to reassure him. He hates the fact that she or anyone could be injured for helping him out of his mess. Natasha then gets up, and goes outside unsteadily to try and calm down Bruce.

Steve instructs Clint to take them to the hospital, hoping Bruce will calm down soon. And not too long while Steve presses some shirts to Tony's bleeding head and shoulder, Bruce is dirty and panting, coming in with Natasha. They're all roughed up, tired, and Clint flies off, heading straight to the hospital.


	10. Chapter 10

Steve tried to keep Tony awake, but it just wasn’t happening.

“Tony, Tony!” He cried out, as Tony’s head lolled against his shoulder, “Stay with us, come on.”

Tony took one last, tired, just exhausted, depressed look, that made Steve crease up his face, his eyes hurting, and then Tony just passed out, as Steve caught him in his arms and held onto him.

“We’re landing,” Clint announced, coordinating the quinjet to slowly touch down on the helipad of the hospital. Bruce had got some bandages, and with slightly shaky hands he tried to attend to Natasha, who also looked tired and weary, and Steve stood up with Tony’s dead weight in his arms as the quinjet stopped, the doors rising open, onto the roof of the hospital.

Clint had sent out a message that they would be arriving, and as soon as they hurried to the door to the lift, there were paramedics with the hospital wheelie beds.

As soon as the bustle of them were in the elevator and seconds later entered the busy, loud and bright contrast of the hospital halls, the nurses and doctors were calling out, quickly taking away Tony to an emergency room, where they couldn’t go with him.

Natasha refused to go with another doctor. The doctor seeing to them recognised them as the Avengers, and straight away knew they were going to be quite stubborn to deal with.

Eventually, with Bruce, Nat was taken to a medic room, where her wound was tended to, needing a few stiches.  

Steve was left with Clint to stare after them all taken behind closed doors, in the hands of the expert strangers. Another paramedic checked Steve and Clint out, but they were fine apart from a few cuts, bruises, and they were very dirty, most of the blood on their suits not theirs, and they got some wipes to sterilise the cuts, but they were only worried about their friends. Apparently, Tony had his own personal doctor who was called in by the hospital, getting their quickly, to assist with the team.

Clint doesn’t know exactly what’s going on with Tony and doesn’t pry, but he knows it was something that happened before tonight, something personal, maybe to do with those people. Though the rest of his team were all pretty secretive about it, so he figured he’s probably better off not knowing. He and Steve just had to wait in the lobby with the doctors and nurses rushing about, nothing more to do but look at each other grimly, sit and wait.

\--

Eventually, Natasha is cleaned up, with very minimal painkillers, against what Bruce and the doctor both advised, reluctantly giving her the lower dose, but Bruce understood, and stayed with her. When she gets out, a bandage around her waist, Bruce helping her, his eyes still pretty wide and afraid, she looks at Clint and Steve, and nods to say she’s ok, then motions Barton over. She is soon on the phone to Fury, with Clint next to her.

Fury seems annoyed that she didn’t tell him – but still, she reports back to him, though she doesn’t need to – but he is glad that the people are dealt with, and for the files that she says Tony now has, and Fury asks for them. Natasha says she will give them to him as he can keep them secure, and perhaps they can work a team in helping people and finding any others in association with Ms Perrimore. But obviously with the exception of Tony’s – Jarvis is under strict orders about keeping certain files safe. Clint doesn’t exactly know what they’re talking about, but he knows Fury is pissed a lot of the time, and he trusts Natasha to deal with it.

Bruce barely gets a drink before he goes straight to where Tony is being treated by the doctors, Steve hot on his heels, but frustratingly, he’s not allowed far. But he gets them to tell him something, at least.

“He’s alright,” Tony’s doctor says, and Steve nods, expecting more, “His wounds are few and not very deep, he only needed a few stiches. He’s currently resting, probably will sleep for the night, and he should be ready to go tomorrow. He’s on medication, and everything’s being looked after – we cannot tell you more at this point without his say, but - you don’t need to worry.”  
Steve nodded slowly, looking to Bruce, who pursed his lips, and they looked through the window of Tony hooked up an IV, looking sound asleep, miraculously.

“Do they-” Steve asked, swallowing, “Do they know?”

“They know enough,” Bruce replied, rubbing his chin, looking through the window, “Doctor Michaels will talk to him tomorrow; he’s good, he’s known Tony for a really long time. He’ll sort him out. Probably recommend him to back to a therapist, but ah, I’m not sure he was that cooperative last time. You know Tony.”

Steve was sullen. He felt rotten. He couldn’t stop looking through the window, hoping Tony wouldn’t have a bad dream again, but there were no signs he wasn’t peacefully sleeping. He blinked suddenly, and sat down just outside, running a hand through his hair. Bruce sat next to him, and after a while began to drift off to sleep, his head leaning back on the chair. Natasha came back after a while, her eyes big and blue, contrasting with her fiery hair. You could tell from a mile away she was scared, and she was scared for Iron Man, the steel armour not enough to protect him this time.

She sat next to Steve, and Clint sat next to her, and instead of falling asleep on a hospital bed like she could have done, she rested her head heavily on Steve’s shoulder, and she held Clint’s hand, and he clasped back with a grimace. He looked to Steve, and motioned to Tony’s room.

“He gonna be alright?” He asked quietly, not knowing the extent of what was going on.

But Steve nodded, his eyes far away, looking to the little window to Tony’s room.

“I hope.”

\--

Tony woke up to a dim light, the dream just on the tip of his tongue, the front of his mind, before it was forgotten, unable to grab it from its reach. It wasn’t exactly a bad dream, but he just – there was something about it, he wanted to go back there, to forget this reality, but then he realised where he was, what had happened, and how his body felt so _weak_. He looked up, blinked a few times to adjust and frowned. They had made it to the hospital…he sighed, and something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. He looked up to see a sight.

His team, the avengers – Earth’s Mightiest _Heroes_ – were all leaning on each other, sleeping, some of them with their mouths open, and slouched uncomfortably on the hospital chairs, outside his room. He had to smile fondly, when Steve opened his eyes tiredly and looked at Tony, his face lightening up, as Tony relaxed back against the pillows. He allowed him a small smile, nodding to say he was ok to Steve’s worried look, at least for now he was, and he was glad that _they were_ _there_ , looking out for him. Soon after the nurse quietly came to check his vitals and gave him a reassuring smile, he felt the pull of the painkillers lulling him back into a blissful, dreamless slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please tell me what you think. Writing this as I go!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, so - thank you for all the comments last chapter about a possible Stony part 2 - I have now deleted that chapter that was just for comments. I plan to finish this story as it is. After this there may be one more chapter and then perhaps I'll put up a part 2 one chapter with stony, but I am unsure yet.
> 
> This chapter focuses on Tony, because it is his story, along with the others. Thanks for the patience. Comments make my day, I don't think I can describe how much it means to me. :)
> 
> Also, the pictures at the beginning of the chapter is something I put together, and (the first one) is what I first put on fanfiction.net but forgot to put it on here until now.

 

 

The next day Tony worked through things with his doctor. He was tired. Just _tired._

He avoided eye contact with the others. He just _couldn’t._ He was alright with his doctor because Michaels always remained professional. But even he seemed ‘concerned’.

He was pretty quiet in general. What could he _say?_ ‘I’m sorry you all got caught up in this’? ‘Thank you for having my back’, or ‘could you please leave so I never have to look you in the eyes again’?

He could barely stand it. But he just went through the motions, not putting up much of a fuss, complying with most of the doctors’ demands, going home in his car with the others in mostly silence, as Clint flew the quinjet back to base. For once in his life, he actually craved his sizably soft bed, to sleep, rest, or just look out to the city. Or maybe he’d do something to keep his mind occupied. But he was told no work for a little while, to give his body time to recover. He didn’t really know how to do that. He was always working towards something; moving forward. Now he felt like…he was stuck.

\--

Others were told the bare minimal. Rhodey he was grateful to see, but he realised he couldn’t tell him much. Because he could not deal with that again; the ‘shock’ and the questions. He just wanted to get back to normal. Not that that would ever happen for him. He felt himself getting lower again, like this feeling of weariness, and pressing anxiety that he couldn’t place.

His doctor, Michaels recommended his therapist even more this time. He’d recommended him before but he had refused several times. Michaels had suggested starting with a video call. Absolutely not.

He was confined to the tower. More specifically, his bedroom, the medical room and…not much else.

—

“What level of difficulty are we on again?” Tony asked.

“The new level you created, sir, because the previous levels of difficulty were not sufficiently challenging for you,” Jarvis answered in his cool, slightly sarcastic voice.

“Yep,” Tony smiled, looking down at the game with his hands on his hips. They were playing an interactive chess game in his spacious room.

“That’s why it’s taking longer than usual.”

“That’s why it’s taking _you_ longer than usual. Sir.”  
“Jarvis!” Tony said in shock. The sass in his AI was unbelievable. Only a reflection of himself, but still, Jarvis was impressive. “Though to be fair, you are programmed to play the best possible combination of calculated moves, so _I_ think I’m entitled.”

Tony looked at the game, from his side to Jarvis’s and walked through the blue interface to his knight, which he moved hoping it would pay off. He set it down on the tile, and e s  stepped back, sighing at the small ache it caused in his ribs, while Jarvis moved his bishop, taking one of his pawns.

Tony sighed heavily.

“I’d recommend some rest, sir,” Jarvis advised.

Tony paced some more in his suite. He couldn’t rest; he could barely get to sleep and when he did it wasn’t restful, and he didn’t really feel like doing anything.

\--

“I think it’s best you just go,” Tony said bluntly, looking back to the blueprints Jarvis had laid out to him of his latest security system.

“Tony, you shouldn’t be doing work-”

“Oh come on, this is hardly work, Rogers!” He bit back.

Steve looked at him, pressing his lips together. It was still weird seeing him in his trackies.

“You took your meds?”  
Tony sighed, and clenched his teeth.  
“Rogers…”  
“Did you?”  
“Yes, I’m not a _child_.”

“Anything else you need help with? Tony, you know it’s no trouble, for any of us. I’d do anything to he-”

“Just get out.”  
Tony didn’t have to look at him to see his poor puppy eyes look. But he did look at him, and he pointed towards the door.

“If you want someone else-”

“Steve, I am really not good company right now. So, return to your jogging, training for the Olympics or whatever, and kindly – _leave_.”  
Steve breathed, eventually nodding. What Tony’s view of training for the Olympics, was Steve’s way of _dealing_. Partially, anyway. He had to do those things everyday.

“Ok,” he said quietly, his hands on his hips, “I just thought you could do with the company, that’s all.”

“Well, I don’t. Besides, I have Jarvis.”  
They both knew that wasn’t really a good substitute. But Tony was sick of them being on his back all the time, _especially_ about his work, which was a good distraction for him, and it didn’t require much physical effort at the moment anyway.

“You know where I’ll be if you need me.”

Tony didn’t look at him but waited until he was out of his peripheral vision and the door closed quietly behind him. He let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, and put his head in his hands to steady himself. At some points, he just thought _I can’t do this. I can’t fucking do this anymore._

\--

Bad company was one word for it.

“Oh, I’m sorry, am I making you _angry_ , Bruce??” Tony snapped at him from across his lab. Bruce stared at him, nostrils flared, looking down at his failed plate of trying to make Tony eat some food.

“I – I just-”

“Hey, what’s going on?”

Tony took a very deep breath, that voice never failing to rattle him.

Clint was eating an apple, sauntering around casually.

“This isn’t a children’s area, Birdbrain. Haven’t you got anywhere else to be?”  
Clint lifted an eyebrow at him and Bruce.

“Well, no, actually, I don’t,” he said simply. Tony scowled and returned to his work on the bench, sitting down for the sake of his back, trying his best to ignore the others, as he hoped he was sending off waves that interpreted as _don’t come fucking near me_.

“Hey, aren’t you meant to be resting, anyway? That’s what Natasha says,” Clint said, “But she’s on a mission.”  
“You know, why don’t you go and join her then?” Tony said cuttingly.

“I wasn’t invited,” Clint said sulkily.

Bruce came over to Tony’s table.

“You want some coffee? I’m just getting some,” he said tensely.

“I can get it myself. Or, rather, Dummy can get it.”

Bruce looked disappointed. Tony stood up.

“Where are you going?” Clint asked. Nosy bugger.

“To get some peace?” Tony replied, glaring at him while he grabbed his tablet phone.

“Hold up a sec,” Clint said, putting his hand on Tony’s arm.

Tony shrugged him off roughly, his face looking dark. He didn’t say anything to Clint’s confused face, but glanced at Bruce before taking off down the stairs.

“The hell was that about?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Bruce said. But he did.

\--

Tony sees his therapist. Well, more like psychiatrist. Who he hasn’t met before, but Dr Michaels said she’s good, and was going on about it, so Tony just agreed, for the sake of it. Or maybe he realised that he really does need some help to get over this.

“I think you have unresolved mental health issues-”  
Tony scoffed.

“Gee, well done, Sherlock. I’m definitely paying you enough,” Tony said sarcastically, shaking his head.

The woman looked at him, smiling slightly.

“I was going to say…aside from your PTSD-induced anxiety. You know, from saving the world from aliens, and what not. Tony, what do you hope to gain out of these sessions with me?”

“Well, it would shut my friends up for starters,” he huffed, “Especially Rhodey, he’s really been getting in my face. Anything to stop him from feeling guilty – and even then, I didn’t even tell him that it was on the night he left me to go somewhere else and-”

Her mouth was a little agape.

“Sorry, rambling.”  
She shook her head. “It’s fine. It helps to get it out, sometimes. Though, talking slower might help, and we definitely have whatever time you need. But what I wanna know, is what you expect to gain from this, for yourself.” She waited patiently, not looking him in the eye while he thought. Tony appreciated it.

“Uh, ok. I guess, to – to help me return to some…normalcy. So I can…uh,” Tony searched for the right words. He didn’t know.

“So I can…get over it?”

“I’ll let you in on something, Tony.”

Again with the first name basis, Tony was suspicious it was a ‘connection-building’ technique or something.

“The words ‘get over it’ are often not helpful, well, to anyone with mental health issues. And it isn’t a helpful goal,” she started, slightly frowning, “That’s because it’s not about getting _over_ the problem, like you’d go over a bridge…But like tackling it head on, so you can plough _through_ it… First, you need to address the issue. Then, we can work together to try and cope with the problems that come with that issue. That way, you can move forward with the issue, build coping mechanisms around it and able to live your everyday life easier. It _will_ take time,” she added, lines etched into her forehead.

“Too much time,” Tony muttered.

“But it is worth it. Is it not?” She asked sceptically.

Tony looked at her, and past her head out the window overlooking New York.

“I don’t know,” he said honestly, staring out.

His psychiatrist sighed and turned over a piece of paper.

“We have some work to start. Have you noticed any change in mood lately?” She said, poised with her pen, “Perhaps irritability?”

“Huh. You _could_ say that…”


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter!
> 
> Warning: Contain suicidal thoughts/ideations, self harm.

Rhodey does that thing with his hand rubbing his chin, looking at Tony with a concerned look. Tony loves Rhodey. He’s great company, and he’s an old friend, so he feels more comfortable with him. Only that means he knows him better as well. When he starts asking what’s going on, Tony tries to let him down gently. Or, more gently than his other friends. But he figures he’s being justifiably more distant towards them because they _know_. Or they’re just annoying, in Clint’s case.

So he says to Rhodey, _no, I’m not doing that good lately._

_And no, I can’t tell you exactly what’s going on._

_The mission? Oh – oh yea, that was nothing…No, I’m fine now, healing up._

Rhodey does that frown thing saying he knows that Tony’s not telling him everything.

_I’m sorry Rhodey, it’s just gonna take some time._

“I don’t want you to worry about me. Worry about your sister. Spend time with your family. And get back to your _job_ – honestly, Rhodey, I’d think you’re slacking…Tsk.”

The edges of Rhodey’s mouth quirk in a little smile.

“Uh, yea. I’m just taking a little time off though…I think you’ve earned it as well. Look, anything you need Tony, you know who to call.” “Yep.”

Rhodey nodded at him, and patted him heartedly on the shoulder, but on his good shoulder, thank god.

\--

“I am under top secret orders to keep an eye on you. From here on, I’m watching you like a hawk,” Clint declares, crossing his arms.

Tony slams the door in his face, and runs a hand through his hair in stress. He makes a decision, needing to get out, needing to get some air, so he suits up, and flies out the window.

At least Birdbrain can’t actually _fly_.

\--

The hills are a tranquil place. The forest, quiet. Usually he likes the bustle and activity of the city, it’s bright. But he wanted some time alone. Just to see how it went.

Turns out, leaving himself to his thoughts was not such a good idea.

He stepped out of his suit, the cold air instantly wrapping itself around him as the wind billowed. He had flown up north somewhere; not exactly sure where and not caring.

He looked out to the quiet towns to gather his thoughts. His _anguish_.

He wasn’t even self-pitying this time. He was…God, the _shame_ was eating him alive. He closed his eyes tightly, and opened them, feeling more free by the vast landscape, the view.

“What am I doing?” His voice came out as a hoarse kind of whisper. He ripped at his hair, it was soft, but what use was it being soft, the only other person was Pepper; she liked running her fingers through his hair, and it always felt nice-

But _they_ had pulled at his hair.

 _He_ had carded his fingers through his it, he had yanked it forward, forcing him-

Tony knelt down on the ground suddenly, retching and throwing up.

He felt like crap.

\--

The others were calling him via the suit. Tony told Jarvis to tell them to piss off. Then he retracted that.

He went back home after a while, and brushed off their concerns, stating that he’s a free person, isn’t he? Allowed to come and go as he wishes?

\--

But they just kept annoying him, trying to control him, and he felt so mad.

He went on the running machine to test out his capabilities; make sure he was still fit.

He knew it would hurt, so maybe there was a part of him that wanted punish himself. And he was taking it low-key.

Of course, Bruce found him and admonished him for it.

“What part about rest did you not understand?!” He asked.

“Nothing,” Tony said back, sitting on the exercise bench with a sigh.

“Tony…”

“Are you just here to keep an eye on me? Is that what you’re all doing? Cause if you are, you can stop it now. And just leave. I’m fine; in fact I’d be better if you’d all get out of my hair,” he retorted. Bruce looked at him tight lipped, but got the message, and left.

\--

Natasha, her he didn’t mind. It must be a spy thing. And a woman thing. She was the only one who got through to him. He didn’t really know why, he just…trusted her, but in a different way. He couldn’t really describe it.

“It’s not personal. I don’t really trust anyone,” Tony said honestly to her.

“I know,” Natasha said, holding up the bandages, “Now, take off your shirt.” He scowled and sat down on the chair, and very carefully, almost hesitantly, took his shirt over his head and held it in his hands, hunched forwards.

“Have you been scratching?” Nat inquires, gently taking the gauze off Tony’s back where the ever-so-slightly-infected bite mark was. Tony just looked down.

“No.”

“Sure.”

“Is it bad?”

She sighed, “It’s getting better.”

Tony managed to sit still while she cleaned it up and put a fresh bandage on the back of his shoulder, apart from the occasional muscle-tensing.

She rubbed his other shoulder when she was done, and sat down beside him.

“How you doing?” She asked.

Tony shrugged, “I dunno. Alright, I guess.”

“You know, the rest of us are only trying to help. Rogers has been annoying, which is what happens when he’s frustrated. The other day, he broke the toaster.”

Tony looked at her. “How did he manage that?” he said incredulously.

“I don’t know, but if he wasn’t a super soldier, he probably would’ve had repercussions from the electric shock.”

Just imagining Cap’s confused face staring at the toaster, and sucking his burned finger, made Tony laugh.

“I’ll buy him a 30s style toaster, then.”

“Oh, that should definitely improve his mood.”

\--

Bruce and Natasha left the tower a few days to go off somewhere together, a journey of self-discovery or maybe just a vacation, possibly even a work thing; Tony wasn’t really listening, but they said he could call them whenever he needed, yada yada yada. He was glad they were going though, both for them and for him, cause it means they’d be out of his hair for a while.

—

Steve looked sad and deep in thought, his usual lined frown staring at his toast when Clint looked up from his cereal.

“Cap.”

Steve looked to him, shaken out of his thoughts.

“…you broke the stress ball.”

Steve looked down to his hand, unfurling his fist to see that the squishy thing Natasha had bought him was now falling apart, courtesy of his too-strong fingers.

“Oh.” His jaw set.

“Something you wanna talk about...?” Clint approached.

Steve looked absentmindedly, shrugging, “I don’t know.”

“Ok…”

“It’s Tony.” “Of course it is,” Clint said dryly, “Honestly Cap, I really think he does need a bit of space. He’s a grown man after all. I mean, he might need a _bit_ of cheering up – he didn’t even have a sarky comment for me the other day, that’s worrying,” Clint said matter-of-factly, pointing with his spoon, “Maybe you could paint him something…ah, something romantic.”

“Clint,” Steve said seriously.

“Yep? Shit, Cap, I don’t know.”

Steve sighed, and gave up. He couldn’t think of anything. He doesn’t even know why he was bothered; he really was just trying to look out for a friend. And Tony seemed alone.

So, he went to his room and organised his art materials, and decided to draw something, something big that would distract him. Maybe something Tony would like as well.

—

Tony spent some time experimenting with his BARF technology, as he noticed it has a glitch, his perfectionist brain was not a-okay with _that_. He actually thinks he fixes it, so why not give it ago? He’s again glad oh his nice spacious workshop room that he designed similar to the one he had at Malibu. He recedes through his memories, them playing out in front of him. Maybe he can change what they look like, imagine what events would look like if they went the way _he_ wanted to…

But not before he’s stuck and _frozen_ just _edging_ into those too-recent memories, feeling the realness of it again, and naturally, had to have a panic attack, smashes the tech, and falls to the floor in a heap of mess. Jarvis is talking, but he’s not really _Jarvis_ , which is someone he could do with right now, and he just can’t…

The thoughts enter his mind again, his very soul pulls to him, and he thinks about killing himself. But unfortunately, it’s not an easy decision to make. It’s not exactly a new thought, or ideal. It’s just that now, he can’t do anything to change the way he feels, his situation, he can’t change what happened, he can’t get out from this cycle of despair, and death is looking much more favourable than living right now.

Unfortunately, it has to be Clint who finds him.

“Tony!” Clint calls, “Stop it, man, what the hell?!”

“What?” Tony says, turning around.

Clint grabs Tony up and drags him away from the smashed pieces of metal on the floor that now have blood on them, and on Tony’s arms.

“Come on, man-”

“Get off me!” Tony shouts, violently throwing him off, “Why do you keep _touching_ me?”

“I’m trying to help, you idiot, and now you’re bleeding.”

“I don’t need this.”

“Sir, would you like me to call someone from the medical wing? There are still some staff on the lower floors.”

Tony sighs. “Yea, Jarvis. A nice _lady_ someone, if you wouldn’t mind,” he said scathingly while looking at Clint.

“Indeed, Sir.”

\--

“Cap-”

“Clint, I really wish you would knock-”

“It’s Tony, it’s bad Cap, I can’t – I don’t know what’s going on, but you know more than I do, and-”

“I’m there. Where is he?”

\--

“Mr Stark, you need to be more careful.” Tony liked the sound of her voice. Soft, with nice smelling brown hair.

“I know,” Tony said flirtingly, “Thank you, Maisie.”

She finished bandaging his arms.

“Mr Stark, would you like to me fetch anyone else?” “No thanks, you did just great. I should give you a raise.” “Ah, I don’t think that’s under your jurisdiction, Mr Stark.”

“Maybe not, but I could definitely give you a bonus of my own.”

Maisie, the nice nurse, smiled and leaned into him as he kissed her, getting the feel of her lips.

“Mm,” he said, “You taste even better than you smell.” She laughed. “I really have to be going.”

“Oh, are you sure?”

“Yes, but I’m sure I’ll see you around,” Maisie said, packing up her equipment. Maybe he still has a chance with the ladies. Of having a nice time with someone, even if it is just flirty fun. She put her hand in his hair, and stroked it, and his breathing picks up again, the stings of the memory all to familiar.

His memories cursed him.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-”

He had flinched, and he _really_ hadn’t mean to do that either.

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” he said, backing away slightly. Visions of blonde and blood. He held onto his arm unconsciously. Ow. It was then that he realised he now had two injured arms. Great.

“Uh, well, I’ll just- go, then…” Maisie said awkwardly. Tony didn’t know at that point whether he wanted her to stay or go.

Eventually he just let her go, watching her walk away, another left disappointed. How could he have believed he could actually do this with someone? Have a real relationship again?

\--

“Tony?” Steve called, looking around his workshop. But he wasn’t there. Steve practically ran the way to Tony’s room, knowing how unpredictable he is, and after Clint said _he’d_ been worried about Tony hurting himself, Steve was scared that he’d throw himself off the deep end.

“Tony!”

He was ok. But looking at him weird.

“You’re glad I let you in.” “I would have broke the door down,” Steve brushes off, looking for potential signs of danger or injuries on Tony as he sat on his silk bed on his phone-tablet-y thing.

“Nah, it’s hulk-proof, I’m afraid.”

“I…would have found a way to get in through the window.”

“Wow. You’re keen.”

“Tony?”

“Yea, Cap.” “Please let me help.”

Tony sighed.

“I’m ok, Cap. Really.” “Clint said your arm-”

“I know. I cut myself, while experimenting with something,” he said dully, “Stupid accident, that turned into not so much an accident. But I’m ok now. Actually, I do need some space to myself.” That was far too simple an explanation for Steve.

“I got the nurse, Maisie, to clean it up though. See, I’m fine?” Tony showed him his bandaged arm.

“Oh, wait – I think that’s the wrong arm…” Tony frowned to himself, unrolling his sleeves.

“Tony,” Steve started stiffly, “You know, what happened…is not your fault.” Tony looked up to him slowly, as if testing him out. Steve didn’t know what to do, he just sort of stood there, fiddling with his hands. Tony nodded once, and looked down.

“Ok. I get it, I- I don’t need a pep talk Cap, but thanks. I appreciate you…trying,” Tony said honestly, “I heard you’re doing painting.” Something to get the topic off him is what he needed, surprisingly.

“Um, well, I do draw mostly, but I have an array of paintbrushes now, so I have been dabbling in that a bit.” Tony was nodding, not really looking at him. “I’m working on something at the moment, actually. I could show you.” “Hmm. Show me when it’s finished,” Tony countered, smiling slightly. Steve felt better about the situation, and thought, at least that’s a reason to check up on Tony again. Just draw loads of damn art and let Tony mock it, if it would distract him and put a smile on his face.

\--

He talks to Bruce when he gets back, who’s a little more awkward to talk to about mushy things, but he trusts him, and he knows when he’s lying.

Bruce looks at him. His eyes are hung with lack of sleep, dark underneath and he looks like he’s randomly scared or worried about something nearly all the time. His hair is a mess. Bruce smells the cheese toasties that they’ve both just been handed.

“Tony… I just wanted to let you know that, I’m here to talk if you ever need to,” he said, blushing slightly, “But I faith in you. I really do. That you’ll get better, I mean.”

Tony frowned at him, “You think so?”

“Yea, I do. I was in a dark place once, and it…it was horrible,” Bruce looked away, rubbing his eyes with his glasses in his hand, “But I’m glad you’re uh, able to try and work through it. Getting help, that therapist you keep complaining about…that’s good. And you have us, Tony – and hell, we can’t do it without you, this whole saving-the-world thing. And I think that only you know if you’re gonna be ok, because it’s a choice - at least, to try. To hope that…things will get better. Not perfect, or the way they were before, but better than it is now.” Tony allows a small smile and contemplates. Maybe he can believe that.

“Yea. Thanks, Bruce,” Tony says, and flits away.

A lot of the time, beneath his bravado, he _really_ doesn’t know what he’s doing a lot of the time. He has no idea why he’s still going at this point, cause…well, it just _hurts_. But he knows pain, he knows it physically, mentally, he knows it, it’s familiar. Maybe the pain isn’t worth it. His friends seem to have a different idea, but he doesn’t know if it’s something he can get on board with. He doesn’t know. What he does know is that distractions, hobbies, whatever you call them, work – at least, in the short run, they do. Knowing that he’s doing _some_ good for the world with his work, and that some people, not most – but the ones he does care about seem to actually, _genuinely_ care about him – a wild concept that he’s still getting used to, but he decides he quite likes it, and might even need it. God forbid he actually admit that, though. There _is_ a line.

 

-)-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just had to have a hopeful ending, I need them in life.
> 
> There is going to be a part 2 with stony.
> 
> Also, I was wondering what you thought of the title of this story 'breathing in clouds'. It's one of my favourites, cause it is quite random, and metaphorical, so it does say something of the story/character but not obviously.
> 
> Tell me what you think! Thoughts need to be let free. Constructive criticism also welcome :)


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